


Go West Young Alpha

by 3rdgenderfromthesun



Series: Borrowed Womb Time Hop [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Abduction, Alternate Universe, Anal, Anxiety, Babies, Blood and Gore, Body Shaming, Can be read alone, Childbirth, F/M, Homesteading, I Failed History, I did research tho, Knotting, M/M, Mates, Mpreg, Multi, Necessary Cannibalism, Nesting, Omegaverse, Pack Dynamics, Period Typical Atrocities Mentioned, Sexism, Stalking, claiming bite, heat - Freeform, letter writing, mentions child death, period typical racial slurs, preg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:08:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 38
Words: 56,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27455500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3rdgenderfromthesun/pseuds/3rdgenderfromthesun
Summary: Derek was a broken alpha who had lost everything when he received a letter from an old friend of his mother's. She connects him to a pack in the Americas where a small family of farmhands is looking for a mate for their omega son. Derek decides to start his life over in the New World and finds that the cheerful omega with a romantic heart and a longing for family may be exactly what the Emissary ordered. (Shows how Alpha Stipends started) Roughly 1850's America. CAN BE READ ALONE
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Implied Scott McCall/Kira Yukimura/Isaac Lahey, Scott McCall/Kira Yukimura
Series: Borrowed Womb Time Hop [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1615705
Comments: 17
Kudos: 147





	1. Chapter 1

TIME WARP! 

So. This is NOT a continuation of Borrowed Womb, but of it's universe. It can be read alone. I will be posting several stories to this universe that can all be read alone, but as a whole tell how the world of Borrowed Womb came to be. The final story is a Happily Ever After where Omegas are totes free and equality has been achieved because HOPE IS NEEDED RIGHT NOW. 

A/N I'm not sure if Ind*an is considered a slur or not, because I have noticed that a lot of Native Americans use it pretty freely but that's sure not indicative of it being a word my white ass can use. So I will be putting an * in the word just in case. I'd rather err on the side of caution. Derek and Mischief are progressive, but they are far from innocent of the crimes my ancestors committed. If I miss a trigger warning PLEASE let me know. I'm still growing and learning.

AN APOLOGY: I have been corrected on my use of slurs in this fic. I have removed them. My apologies for those who were distressed by my actions here. I was going for accuracy where it wasn't needed. 

Derek stepped off of the boat with a relieved breath. The confined space that stank of various unwashed supernatural creatures had become overwhelming somewhere around week one. By the time he stepped down he'd had a headache for a fortnight. Derek straightened his vest and peered around himself for the nearest post. Since boats were rarely on a perfect schedule, he had to write to the family that would be making his acquaintance, and soon his marriage, as soon as possible. Given the early time he'd arrived, he planned to pen that letter before he even found accommodations for the night. The post office was more of a shed, but they'd get the letter to his future pack.

_My Dearest Mischief,_

_I have arrived safely in the Americas and will make arrangements to have myself and my belongings brought to you post haste. I have sent this letter on ahead, as it is my understanding the mail moves faster than a coach full of boxes. I may have missed a letter or two during my journey, but will keep an eye out for any that may meet me along the way. The last I heard you were hoping to purchase lands as soon as I arrive. I shall keep my things in crates until we reach our new home together to speed along our goals, so I hope that you will forgive me looking like a traveler for a time. I can not wait to finally see you with my own eyes, to meet you face to face, and to take you as my own._

_Sincerely,_

_Derek Hale_


	2. Chapter 2

_Talia:_

_It has been far too long since we last corresponded, a fact which I blame largely upon myself. I have immigrated to the Americas, where the land is more pure and my wolf heart can find forests in abundance. Sadly, what is also in abundance is hatred. A profound stink lays over the country that pervades even those who are not white. Irish hate Italian, Italian hate G*psies, they have invented all new terms for the shapes of my eyes, and everyone hates the Irish._

_As if that weren't enough, the darker one's skin the less likely they will live to adulthood, or live at all in freedom. The Ind*ans here are being pushed further into the country on pain of death, and the importation of slaves has not slowed as it has across the pond. Indeed, the plight of the natives and the blacks is what caused me to finally write to you to some degree._

_As you know, I had been seeking a pack upon our last conversation, and here in America I have found it amongst a group of outcast werewolves, kitsune, and a few like-minded humans. Yes, they still exist, though quite rare and prone to being poisoned by water of all things! My pack is quite diverse in race as well, and has come under scrutiny, not the least of which is because they are so outspoken._

_One such Polish family has been quite insistent that slavery here end, and that the s*vages be allowed to live out their lives in peace amongst us. I support this wholeheartedly, but have been less obnoxious in my political agenda. Their behavior has caused them to be ostracized by our mostly white neighbors in this rather cramped city. The people in Boston are very patriotic, but quite ignorant of the hypocracy of demanding freedom from tyranny while bestowing it on others. They called them out on it, and now their son is paying the price._

_Young Mieczyslaw, or Mischief as he is more tolerably called by American tradition, has yet to be courted by a single alpha, despite being quite handsome, well versed in animal husbandry, skilled in the house, and verified by a doctor as fit to breed. His parents are quite distraught as repeated attempts to introduce him to polite society has met with crickets._

_I write you now with the recollection that you spoke to parliament many times on behalf of the slaves in England when you were young, and that you were blessed with a large family after I left. There are no single alphas in my pack, and this young one craves an alpha's strong hand. He needs it as well, the brat. If your young Cora is still available, I would welcome her into my pack with open arms should she agree to a mating merger with Mischief. If not, another suitable alpha would be more than welcome. We are up to our eyeballs in betas, so much so that the government has discussed stepping in to encourage alphas to migrate here. I shall let you know if that produces anything financially worthwhile._

_Sincerely,_

_Alpha Satomi Ito_

_Boston #132 Pack_

_Dear Alpha Ito,_

_My name is Derek Hale, and I well remember you from my childhood. I regret to inform you that your letter was not received by my late mother, nor is Cora alive to enter into a mating merger. Your letter was quite delayed as the address to which you sent it burnt to the ground with nearly all occupants inside two years hence._

_I am the sole survivor since my uncle and his human lover were put to death by mistletoe for their murders. The Hale name has no available alphas other than myself, and as you probably have noted, without a pack I will not be an alpha for much longer. Already I have far outlasted my expected time as an alpha without a pack, and am expected to descend to gamma quite abruptly when The Change strikes me down._

_I hope that you are judicious in choosing a mate for this young omega, as there are filthy beasts hidden within the eyes of noble wolves. I implore you to find him someone who you personally know, as I remember you to be wise. It would be a tragedy the likes of which I know for such a progressive young omega to be downtrodden by someone like Peter._

_Sincerely,_

_Alpha Derek Hale_

_Packless_

_Dear Mr. Hale,_

_My name is Mieczyslaw Stilinski, but my friends call me Mischief. My parents were so glad to hear you had accepted my betrothal request in your sister's stead and gave me permission to write to you. I'm so sorry for your loss. I can't imagine what it would be like to lose one family member, let alone all of them. Your wolf must be howling in pain every day. If you were here I would wrap you up in blankets and spoon feed you stew until he settled, but I can't imagine the pain will ever truly go away._

_I'd like to tell you about myself so that we are well on our way to knowing each other when you arrive. I care for animals on the farm my family works on, as is a custom here even for omegas, and am well versed in animal husbandry. Father believes it will translate well to ranch life, and that with your strength there is nothing to stop us moving west where there are more opportunities. I love to cook, but I am awful at sewing._

_I'm tall for an omega, and I have a lot of moles. I'm told I'm otherwise pretty, especially my eyes. I keep my hair long as is the fashion here for omegas, but I heard that in England they keep it short so I cut it. I have included with this letter a cutting of said hair, as my alpha insists that it may delay The Change by invigorating your urges to mate. I admit I blushed when she said so. I hope that my scent pleases you._

_I have always wanted a big family for as long as I remember. My parents fell in love as children and married young, but sadly they are both betas and could only bear one cub. With an alpha as a mate I plan to have as many cubs as I can. I hope you agree. A doctor has checked me and thinks I will bear cubs well. When I was young I thought I had found a love like theirs, but the alpha never noticed I existed so eventually my fantasy of finding a love like my parents died. I am a smart and loyal person, so I decided that I will make my own love. Whoever you are, whatever your hurts, I know that we can form an amazing partnership and in time love will follow._

_Sincerely,  
Omega 'Mischief's Stilinski_

_Property of Alpha Satomi Ito_

_Boston #132 Pack_

_Alpha Satomi Ito,_

_How fucking dare you assume that I want or need an omega that you can not even find a mate for amongst the power hungry colonies? I am not a ploy for your schemes, nor do I appreciate the clear manipulation of sending me a cutting of an unrelated omega's hair! If you sought to drive me to mad desire, you have succeeded, but I am not the tiny child you recall. I slaked my lust with the widely available unfortunates in London. If you would like to help my situation than instead of prostituting blushing virgins who I am far too brutal to lay hands on, kindly send me the funds for more of the liquor and ladies of the night who succor me._

_Not at ALL yours,_

_Alpha Derek Hale_

_INTENTIONALLY PACKLESS_

_To Whom It May Concern,_

_Reign in your child. Your omega son has sent an alpha who he has no connection with a clipping of his hair. Based on his letter I don't believe he was aware of what his scent would do to an unrelated alpha, but certainly he had an idea that it was inappropriate. If Satomi has not informed you of such, the Hale family is not available to merge with your pack and mate your omega son. Do not contact me again._

_Derek Hale_

_Packless_

~~_Mieczyslaw Stilinski,_ ~~

~~_I received your letter and regret to inform you that I am not available to you or any other as a mate, nor is it appropriate to send a clipping of your hair through the mail to an alpha who has not entered into an arran-_ ~~

~~_Greetings Mieczyslaw Stilinski,_ ~~

~~_It seemed from your letter that you were under the impression that I have agreed to merge with your pack and become your mate. I regret to inform you that this is simply untrue. I am an unrepentant sinner and prefer to spend the hopefully short remainder of my time as an alpha between the thighs of wallowing in the tearing through London's seedy undergr_ ~~

~~_Mischief,_ ~~

~~_Your scent drove me insane for three days and I have wrapped the hair in a handkerchief I bought new at great cost, laundered repeatedly with special soap, and have hidden it in my breast pocket in the hopes of keeping the scent alive for as long as possible. It will surely hold off my descent into madness, but has burned into me an insanity of a different sort. If I were to come to you now I would bury my-_ ~~

_Dearest Mischief,_

_While the enclosed contents were wildly inappropriate, your letter to me was the first kind word I have received without paying for it in nearly three years time. For that I humbly thank you. However, I'm afraid they come far too late. While I have not yet started The Change, and your scent will surely delay it now, I am an unrepentant sinner who has spent the entirety my family's fortune on alcohol and women of ill repute._

_I could make excuses about my grief, but I shall not tarnish your innocent thoughts with any such tall tales nor leave you with the idea that my actions are anything but inexcusable._

_I am not worthy to touch the hem of your skirt, let alone become your mate, but I hope that your sweetness is noted by someone who will cherish you as I would have had I not been so tarnished by this cruel and disgusting world. Please do not contact me further._

_Yours Until I Burn,_

_Derek Hale  
Packless_

_Dear Obviously Repentant Sinner,_

_First off: No. I will not stop contacting you. Don't be daft._

_Second: If I were as sweet and innocent as you think I was I wouldn't have sent you my hair._

_Third: Don't be a sourwolf. Everyone is worthy of love, and I have decided to love you. It will take time and patience, but I'll get there eventually and you're just going to have to be brave and tolerate it._

_Now, to allay your fears. I work in animal husbandry. A N I M A L H U S B A N D R Y. While I am still kept ignorant of many of the mating practices of our higher species, as is required of omegas for some silly reason, I have engineered the mating of more animals than I can recall. I know how these things work. I know the tongue goes into the groove, so to speak. I know what you did with those ladies after you got my scent in the mail, and I'm flattered. I hope they enjoyed it, as it is the last time you will touch another until you come home to me._

_As for my own sexual history, since we are being frank, I'm afraid I am not quite pure. I do hope you will keep this to yourself, as it could ruin me further and I'm already quite fallen from grace here in Boston._

_18 months ago from the writing of this letter an alpha took an interest in me and accosted me in a barn at a horse sale. My father was indisposed showing her father our stallion and discussing using him to stud. Don't worry, I was more than willing, and so was she, but nothing came of our fumbling in the corner beyond ruining my underthings. Before I could return the favor her skilled hands had lent me, our parents came running and broke us up. I suppose I was a bit loud, but you will find that is a feature of mine you'll never be rid of. Consider yourself warned._

_My father tried to force her to bond with me, but their parents were having none of it, insisting that if a child came of it they would take the cub off my hands without complaint and pay me for my silence, but wanted nothing to do with black lovers. I'm rather glad she didn't agree to be my mate as I thought less of her after spending a few seconds listening to her family talk ill of others. Since our actions couldn't possibly result in a child, I was free and clear of anything and a scandal didn't even start as both families- and the alpha in question- were eager to keep it secret out of various types of shame._

_Now that we have the unpleasantness behind us: what is your favorite food? Favorite color? Do you have a nickname? Will you bring a friend with you when you come to America? I ask the last so I know how much money to send you for a boat ticket since you have fucked yours away already._

_Yours Truly,_

_Mischief_

_Property of Alpha Satomi Ito  
Boston #132 Pack_

_Dearest Mischief,_

_You are absolutely incorrigible. I like venison, the color blue, and hate nicknames._

_I shall come to Boston alone._

_Yours Truly,_

_Derek Hale_

_Packless?_

_Dearest Sourwolf,_

_Enclosed, please find the fair for your boat ride, along with funds to transport belongings. I do hope it is enough. In case you were wondering, my father and mother never got your letter telling them off. Satomi is the alpha they answer to, and she intercepted it and burned it. She laughed while she did so. I think she may be evil, but in a good way. I love her like another mother._

_In all honestly, I have several mother figures, and none of them are omegas! Isn't that funny? Satomi is an alpha, as you know, and my best friend Scott's mother is a beta. My family and hers were close while we were growing up, so he is more of a brother to me than a friend, which is why we could not mate despite him being an alpha. I tell you this so you will not be jealous. I couldn't touch his privates with a cattle prod let alone with any part of my anatomy._

_Scott and my parents are farmhands here, and the farm we work on mass produces for the city. We share a big ole farmhouse, one of two on the property, and there are several packs within it. I share a room with my parents for propriety now that I've emerged, but there is a room connected that we will share until we are ready to move. Scott and I went everywhere together when we were little, but now that I'm older I'm not allowed alone with him so we rarely see each other. I just got the happy news that he has found a mate! I have met her and she is lovely, and once they are mated together I will be able to spend more time with him as she will be a sort of chaperone to him._

_I crave the freedom that your claiming mark will give me. To be able to walk down the streets alone! Go to shops! I am almost jealous of your 'ladies of the night', though when I asked mother about them she went quite pale and told me that they were tortured souls who were abused by the masses. That can't be entirely true, because you would never abuse anyone._

_Yours Forever,_

_Mischief Stilinski_

_Property of Alpha Satomi Ito_

_Boston #132 Pack_

_Beloved Mischief,_

_You trust too easily. I was once the sort to hear pretty words and believe them truth, but it was your honesty that won me over, and I fear I have not been as honest with you. I have enclosed the letters I nearly sent you before crossing them out and writing the first one you received from me. If you hate me after reading how I nearly responded I will send your funds back to you._

_Yours Forever,_

_Derek Hale_

_Dearest Sourwolf,_

_You are an idiot, and I love you for it._

_When will you come home to me?_

_Scott saw an advert at the post office when fetching your letters for me- I'm not allowed to go so he and Satomi get them and bring them to the farmhouse- and now he has a mad plan that we should join in on!_

_Apparently the government here has decided to fund people moving to the new territories out west! This means freedom for me from the persecution I have received here! Our own land! A house of our own! We can start new together in all ways! I know that traveling is half the danger, so since so many are fleeing further west where the Ind*ans still fight I will suggest we go southwest._

_The requirement is for alphas/omega pairs only, so you had better get here soon, and apparently they will pay quite handsomely for any alpha heirs conceived! We will get with our application a packet of seeds, a title to our own land, and a map to find it. Getting there and surviving the first winter are our problems._

_Please, I implore you, come now! I can wait years for you, but you can not wait for me! Let me hold you, Derek. Let me soothe your hurt. No whore can give you a home, pack, and love like I can._

_Yours Forever,_

_Mischief Stilinski,_

_Property of Alpha Derek Hale_

_Unregistered Hale Pack_

_Beloved Mischief,_

_You set me ablaze._

_When Satomi sees the change to the end of your letters she will be furious._

_I can not think when I get your letters._

_Not enough of your scent lingers on them._

_Send me more hair._

_I can not leave for two more months due to the season and am going mad. I have settled affairs, packed up what little I plan to bring, and am currently spending all my time in the library reading up on farming of all things!_

_Yours Eternally,  
Alpha Derek Hale_

_Unregistered Hale Pack_

_Beloved Derek,_

_Enclosed please find a stocking, because you stink for waiting too long. I hope it makes you horny despite being worn in a shoe before I sent it. Father will be furious that I lost one, so bring it back with you._

_Yours Forever,_

_Mischief Stilinski_  
Property Of Derek Hale Despite Satomi Being Annoyed at my Forwardness  
Unregistered Pack

_P.S. Enclosed find the registration for a pack in the Colonies. You and Scott can work out the name when you get here. He doesn't want to call it Hale so you might have to compromise with him, but I promise you'll like him. He's a big puppy._

_Dearest Mischief,_

_You are AWFUL and I love you for it. I hope your father took a hand to you when he found out that you sent that stocking to me. For the record, I have soiled if further._

_I don't know when this letter will get to you, so in the interest of travel and delivery I will tell you that I will be there soon. My tickets are bought, my belongings arranged, and I have sold what I could not bring along so that I could afford a few odds and ends to get me by until I reach you. I have been working on a farm for the last few weeks helping them plant this spring. I hope that my newly acquired plant knowledge will merge with your husbandry to make our lives fruitful. I don't know what Scott and his mate bring to the table, but I have heard that multi-family work well in the West of the Colonies._

_I am anxious to get to you, to claim you and give you the life you crave and the one I have never yet enjoyed. You breathe hope into me from across the sea and I am eternally grateful that you are a pushy brat who refused to be brushed aside._

_Eternally Yours,_

_Alpha Derek Hale_

_Pack To Be Named_


	3. Chapter 3

Derek's carriage pulled to a stop in front of the farmhouse just outside Boston's main city that Derek had been sending letters to for nearly half a year. According to Mischief their family had been working at the farm since he was a baby, saving the funds that they needed to buy their own land. Mischief hoped the new law would expedite things and give him a chance to have a new life away from the city.

England had a similar rule in place for paying for heirs, but they paid for alpha _and_ omega babies born to couples, including betas, and the sum was far smaller. The new law in America would completely deny betas, who couldn't bare alphas at all, any chance of moving through the country as the lands were being given priority to alpha/omega pairs. As such, Mischief's plan only worked if Derek were still an Alpha, which based on his reaction to Mischief's scent he certainly was. Derek worried about America's motivations for promoting the births of alphas and making them more wealthy than other genders. In time, land ownership meant more than just survival. It meant _riches._ America was just off of a war with England, and he wondered if they might be trying to make sure that the next would be an easy win if they had more alphas than any other country.

The door opened before Derek could do more than adjust his clothes from the ride, and his eyes widened as a sprite of a young man burst through, running towards him at top speed. A blue and green blur collided with Derek, arms around his neck and _legs around his waist!_ Blood rushed south at both scent and impropriety, and Derek found himself gripping his body against him tightly, face buried in Mischief's neck as he breathed in the scent that had driven him halfway around the world. His hands were buried in more skirt than flesh, but he was still clasping his ass and Derek's mind nearly went blank with lust.

Derek's face was _right_ over his mating gland, pulling out Derek's sharp canines and bringing forward the urge to claim him. However, Derek had yet to even _speak_ to the alpha or parents of this young man, hadn't even received a letter from the latter. Propriety meant that he had to do so before he could claim the omega, or everything could go pear shaped in an instant. That was tantamount to stealing a horse, and Derek was no thief. Derek lowered Mischief down, reluctant and regretful, until their eyes met at last.

He did have beautiful eyes. Whiskey depths that danced with humor and intelligence smiled up at him, his actual grin so broad as to be shocking. He had an upturned nose that Derek wanted to lean forward and nip. He stepped back once Derek had released him, but their hands remained connected. Neither wanted to let go. Derek's eyes roved over him with deep hunger. He wore a blue checked farm dress with a plaid green and blue shawl to ward off the cold of early spring. His feet were bare in his haste to run outside and the glimpse of flesh had Derek huffing, he'd cut his hair short and it was as wild and untamed as the lands they planned to move to. Mischief's figure beneath the dress was slender and tall. He looked like a dream come true.

“Oh, wow,” Mischief stared him up and down, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. The scent of his arousal was escaping his heavy skirts and multiple underthings, a reaction to Derek's alpha scent.

Derek knew what he looked like and couldn't help the smug smile that crossed his face. Mischief nodded at his expression, “Yeah, you got reasons to smile. I see that. What about me? Do I pass?”

“With top marks,” Derek replied in earnest.

“Ohhhh, that accent,” Mischief moaned, clasping a hand to his chest and looking dazed.

The door to the barn opened and a beta werewolf stepped out, salt and pepper hair showing he was likely Mischief's father or another older packmate. He was wearing dirty work clothes and looked beyond frustrated as he started shouting at Mischief.

“Damn it, Mischief, I told you to get the knives and get back here fast! It's a breech! We may need to cut her out!”

Mischief took off at a run and Derek blinked in confusion at the man and his mate's departure. The man spared him a glance and then dismissed him just as easily, heading back into the barn. Mischief returned from inside the house, carrying a leather roll and running for the barn fast. His shoes were on now, but they weren't hooked up so he tripped twice on his way to the barn.

“GET YOUR SHOES ON RIGHT!” The beta's voice rang out.

Derek wasn't sure if he should enter or not, but with nothing else to do he told the coachman to leave his belongings by the carriage, handed him his coin- switched to American money that he hadn't figured out yet- and headed into the barn. He rolled up his sleeves as he entered, imagining that he would be working immediately. Luckily his clothes were already stained from the journey, so whatever he was about to encounter couldn't do them much harm.

So he thought.

Apparently breech meant the birth of a sheep, and Mischief was kneeling by the ass end coaxing the creature to relax as he worked a lamb out of it's body feet-first. Mischief was entirely focused, and as Derek stepped forward to offer his help the beta snapped an order at him. Derek obeyed and found himself coaxing a fire in a nearby clay oven back to life.

“Shit, fuck, damn it,” Mischief swore.

“Language,” The beta growled.

“We're losing her!”

Derek looked over to see the mother sheep lying down, but her head was up and she seemed alert. The lamb, however, was still and wet on the ground, covered in blood and clearly not breathing. Derek didn't even hear a heartbeat.

“Mischief,” Derek spoke softly, “She's gone, baby.”

“No she fucking _isn't.”_

Derek was stunned into stillness. The smell of ozone was in the air, as of an oncoming storm. Derek moved sideways to stare down at Mischief in shock. _It was coming from the omega!_ Mischief's eyes had bled to black and he was chanting beneath his breath as he gripped the torso of the tiny lamb in his hands. What language he spoke Derek didn't know, but the sparks that fed from his fingers into the lamb's chest were easily identifiable.

The omega held lightning in his hands.

The lamb's body jerked like a puppet on a string, a gruesome sight that had Derek's stomach rebelling, but a moment later the lamb's heart fluttered, beat too fast, and then slowed to a natural state. The beta leaned forward to breathe into her mouth and she took a breath and let out a miserable bleat.

“Get her to teat,” Mischief gasped.

Derek caught him before he could fall into manure, scooping the limp figure into his arms and staring down into natural eyes once more. The beta quickly moved the lamb to the mother and encouraged them to bond and nurse.

The beta stood up, dunking his hands in sawdust to rub the blood off as he straightened up and stared at Derek holding the omega in his arms.

“Now then,” He huffed, “So. Who might you be?”

“Derek Hale,” He replied, “Why did his eyes turn black? What was that?”

Mischief's eyes had fluttered shut and he was limp in the alpha's arms.

The man blinked and tilted his head, “You're going to have to give me a bit more than that, son. I don't know of any Derek Hale, although to be fair I don't spend a lot of time with _Brits._ ”

“You haven't heard,” Derek decided, “I'm engaged to marry Mischief, here. I've just arrived from England. Is his father around?”

The man's eyes narrowed and he turned to grab a mug of some odd beverage that smelled bitter from the top of the stall where he'd stashed it, stepped forward, and dumped it over Mischief's head while Derek gaped at him in fury.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?!” Derek backed up, turning away to protect Mischief from another attack.

Mischief sputtered awake, shouting and flailing, nearly toppling out of Derek's arms.

“Mieczyslaw Jakub Stilinski,” The man let out a much put-upon sigh, “Start talking.”

“Oh, hey, dad! You've met Derek! Uh... surprise?”


	4. Chapter 4

The bitter substance was coffee, and it was _horrible_. Derek couldn't believe that the colonists had dumped pounds worth of tea into the ocean and switched over to _this._ Oh, he got the taxation issue. He got the fury over the Stamps. His own government had definitely been in the wrong, and he'd secretly been proud of the colonists for their rebuttal, although it had happened before his birth. Their decades young government was doing well and he was officially an ex-pat now that he had emigrated, so he supposed he had to get used to things. That said, the substance sat in Derek's gut like a lead weight and he could feel his insides rumbling.

His future mate- if he could convince the father to allow it- was sitting at the table with his own mug of the disgusting brew, savoring it like a fine wine. He'd dressed it up with some cream, and while Derek hated the stuff in tea he was tempted to add it to the foul substance since refusing the whole mug would certainly cause offense. Of course, given the father's disposition perhaps he _should_ refuse it... on the grounds it might be poisoned.

To explain his side of things, Mischief had brought out a packet of letters that Derek had written to him. They were tied in ribbon and much worn from being read and re-read over and again. Mischief looked like a love-sick child even to Derek, especially since Derek was less eloquent than Mischief was and had sent him shorter letters, and less frequently. Derek had a packet as well, but he had over a dozen tied up with twine. He'd read them only once, so they looked pristine inside their envelopes and it was obvious he'd doted on them far less. He felt inadequate in comparison to Mischief's obvious longing for Derek. Surely the father could see the difference and would think he was trying to get Mischief into bed and then leave him like the alpha from the horse show.

Noah read each of them, in order by date, and shook his head in disgust as he stared at them both.

“Where is it?” Noah asked.

“The money he sent?” Derek guessed, “I spent it to get here, of course.”

“No, the lock of his hair and the _stocking,_ ” Noah glared at Mischief, “I wondered why you suddenly decided to sheer it off. For the summer, my ass. Though you do lose your things enough.”

Derek pressed his lips together, not wanting to reply lest he demand them back. The hair especially was a prized gift from Mischief, something he kept on his person at all times. His hand strayed to his breast pocket in answer, to a kerchief he kept there folded around it to preserve the scent as much as possible.

Noah nodded, “Well, we're going to have to decide what to do now. I had no intention of giving my son to any alpha, let alone a Red Coat. I fought in the Revolutionary War. I'm a proud Yankee.”

Derek nodded, “The war is over, has been for half a century, and I'm an expat now. I take it there was a beta you planned to mate him to?”

Derek couldn't stop the possessive flash of his eyes.

“I meant to keep him my _son_ for as long as possible,” He growled, eyes flashing yellow in return, “Not hand him off to someone who will decide what's best for him without my input! The fact no one around would have him helped. Now you plan to drag him across the country? He's young. He's got another fifty years of breeding, maybe more. There's no damn rush. He's barely an adult!”

“He wants a mate,” Derek told him, _“He_ wanted to go west, not I. He has hopes and dreams that don't include living here forever. Why deny him? What do you gain from keeping him from his dreams?”

Noah's eyes narrowed, “Why are you doing that?”

“Doing what, sir?” Derek was genuinely confused, his frown deepening.

“Talking about _his_ wants and needs. Where are yours in all this,” The man tapped his letters to show he meant them as well, “Where's your goals?”

Derek reached for Mischief's hand and the young omega supplied it quickly, “Right here.”

Noah's chair scraped as he stood up slowly, heading for a window to stare out at the sunset. He heaved a dramatic sigh and looked over his shoulder at Mischief.

“Your mother is going to make me sleep on the couch. Bring your things inside... Derek, was it?” Noah spoke harshly, “Mischief, show him to your room.”

“You mean it?” Mischief asked, hope in his voice as he clattered to his feet and took the chair down with him.

“We'll discuss you moving with Satomi. I have a feeling you stopped sharing your letters with her at some point or she'd have taken you to task for wanting to leave her pack. Go on, now!”

“Yes, sir,” Derek agreed, standing up slowly while Mischief picked up the chair and gave him an embarrassed glance.

Noah grimaced at Mischief and jerked his head to get him moving. Mischief's feet pattered as he fled out the door and to the crates full of Derek's belongings on the side of the road. Barefoot again. There he hovered, waiting for them to finish talking so he could bring things in.

“You hurt him... ever... We're gun people here, you got that?” Noah growled, eyes flashing yellow.

“Yes, sir,” Derek agreed, stopping himself from flaring back.

“What the hell was Satomi thinking?” Noah moved away and headed for the back of the building, leaving Derek to frown after him.

He headed outside to where Mischief was anxiously rubbing his hands together. His eyes were red from fighting back tears during their interrogation, but they were dry at the moment. He threw his arms around Derek's neck again once he got close enough, but instead of a hug Derek quickly moved in for a kiss. Their mouths collided, Mischief's unfamiliar with the motions, and for a moment he was entirely focused on guiding him through his first kiss. Mischief shivered and sagged against him, desire flooding Derek's senses. When they broke the kiss Mischief's eyelids were heavy, his lips parted in wonder, and his pupils dilated.

“You _are_ a brat,” Derek told him.

“Yeah,” He grinned, “But I'm _your_ brat.”


	5. Chapter 5

Derek hauled his crates and trunks into Mischief's small room in the farmhouse. Mischief and his parents shared two small rooms connected by a door, with barely enough room for a bed and a dresser in the one Mischief and he would share. A washstand and a lantern on the dresser were the only other features. Clearly this was for sleeping only, which made sense given this was quarters for workers. There were communal areas on the first floor for eating and resting.

On the same floor were two other workers, unrelated, who smelled like pack to Derek. They were a black man and a white woman, and they gave Derek an amused smirk as he moved into Mischief's room. Each floor had more workers on it, but not all of them were in Mischief's pack, and he explained that they didn't really socialize with those outside of their pack. Mischief hadn't been allowed out of his father, mother, or Melissa's eyesight for more than a few seconds at a time since emerging as an omega, so he didn't really socialize _at all_ anymore. Even now he was hovering in the hallway, despite Derek's spoken claim over Mischief.

Derek's things took up a _lot_ of space in Mischief's room. Mischief was practically vibrating with excitement as Derek moved them in, and he eagerly started tidying up the room once Derek's things were in place. Derek knew that omegas often got pleasure from housekeeping, so he stood to one side and watched with a small smile as he flitted about and made sure that Derek had space for his spare clothes in the dresser and laid a blanket over the bed that Derek had kept separate from the crates.

“Do you like it?” Derek asked, stepping up to him and stroking his fingers through his wild hair.

“It's pretty,” Mischief nodded, running a hand over the wolf pattern on the fabric.

“My mother made it,” He told him softly, “It was meant to be for my mate someday. I kept it, even after I sold or traded most other things that survived the fire. Speaking of things, we've not got a lot of room here. I should probably get rid of-”

“No, no, no,” Mischief shook his head, “Dad will fold. He always does. We'll go to the Arkansas Territory soon. We'll need your things, plus whatever we can carry. ”

“Is that how you make things work?” Derek shook his head in amusement, “Just assume people will do what you want and act accordingly?”

“Basically,” Mischief smiled up at him proudly, “I love the blanket.”

“Good,” Derek stepped forward and touched his cheek gently, guiding his chin up with one thumb, “What are you?”

“Hm?”

“You're not a wolf.” Derek stated, raising an eyebrow, “I don't trust easily, Mischief. You can't assume I will go along with things. I'll _run._ I've been running for a long time and I'm used to it. Now, before I claim you, _if I claim you_ , you will tell me the truth _._ Do you understand? No secrets or lies or manipulation. Now.”

Mischief's face turned slightly panicked when he heard Derek was being sincere, and he shook his head frantically.

“I'm a fox, that's all! There were foxes far back in my mother's family, from her great-great-grandmother, and I showed up as one out of the blue. I can harness lightning, but I _swear_ that's all that's odd about me! I look like a tiny dog with big ears in my full form, but I have werewolf instincts and needs for pack. I even smell like a werewolf, as you know already. The doctor says I'll likely birth werewolves but it's... you know... possible I'll have foxes, too. I'm a fluke, is all! Like blonde hair from parents who are brunettes, but go on to birth more brunette children. I'm not going to hurt you. I'd _never_ hurt you! Or anyone!” Mischief flailed his hands, eyes wide and pleading, “I'm your _mate,_ Derek. I didn't mean to keep it from you, I just didn't think it mattered because no one here cares. We're a mixed pack, and there are lots of other creatures here. I'm not an oddity for that, not for being a half-breed. Not even half, because I'm more werewolf than fox!”

Derek considered his words, his heartbeat steady and his eyes desperate. He'd given Derek new hope, new life, and brought him from the brink of destruction. Derek had desired him before he'd even met him, and his ardor wasn't dimmed in the face of these changes. Mischief had always been forward, but Derek had assumed it was Satomi manipulating him. Now he knew that it was Mischief who had just powered ahead, clever like a fox, making sure he got his happily ever after.

Who was Derek to deny him?

“Keep me in the know from now on,” Derek ordered, grasping those fiddling fingers and bringing one to his mouth to press a kiss to the tips.

  
“I will,” Mischief nodded enthusiastically, “I promise. Nothing bad here, just a very young and excitable omega who needs reining in.”

“Quote from your dad?” Derek chuckled as Noah snorted from the hallway.

Mischief snorted, “Like... daily.”

Derek laughed lightly and pulled Mischief in for another long kiss. He wanted to claim him, and in his mind he had pictured riding up to the house, being given the father's blessing, and carrying Mischief to his room where he would bite him, fuck him, and then spend the rest of the day in a sort of honeymoon haze of sex and snuggling. He'd memorize his face, body, and voice. Mischief would probably cry the first time because a knot in a virgin hurt, but he'd heal quickly as a werewolf (which he wasn't) and then Derek would make it up to him by teaching him everything sensual. He would be Derek's sweet little omega housespouse. By the time they hit next spring in their new home in Arkansas he would be round with child. _Their_ child. A Hale. A future. Now he wasn't quite sure where they stood with Mischief's owners, or what Mischief's body could tolerate.

“I need to know if you can heal yourself,” Derek asked, “It changes things. Living out in a territory, with no doctor.”

“I can heal,” Mischief nodded fast, “I told you. The doctor says I'm fit to breed. To claim, too. If you were wondering.”

Mischief was looking at him with eyes so big, so much like a sweet little doe, that Derek all but melted. He knew he shouldn't trust just anyone, but Mischief wasn't just anyone. He trusted his mother's old friend. He trusted Mischief. His omega mate was asking to be claimed, and Derek wanted that with every fiber of his being. Once claimed they would crave each other. Their hearts would sync up and they'd be like one. Unified. Married. Bonded. He leaned in hungrily but the beta by the door cleared his throat pointedly.

“Sun's high, Mischief.”

“Tonight,” Derek stated, “After I get your alpha's blessing. I have a feeling your father expects you to finish out your workday, anyway.”

Mischief groaned like a teenager, “You're right, it's only midday. I'm so distracted by your scent! I have to go. I'm-I'm sorry. It's a farm. It doesn't stop running.”

“I know,” Derek nuzzled their noses together, “I'm coming down with you. I promised you I would run a homestead with you, I might as well learn on a farm.”

“Oh gods, a greenhorn! My dad's going to be pissed!” Mischief laughed, pulling Derek along with him as he headed for the door.

Derek grinned and followed him, the smile hurting his face. His mate was an adorable ball of energy and Derek felt as if his heart were re-starting... just in time for it to meld with another.


	6. Chapter 6

Derek was sore and tired, his body lazy to heal after expending so much energy between the long, sleepless journey and the work he'd done on the farm. He washed up in one of the big tubs in the mud room. The other farm hands went first, all tired but a lot higher of spirits than Derek. They'd been pushing him around all day, but Derek could take the hazing. He'd learned quite a bit, and had a new respect for Mischief's strength and the work he'd have to put in to run a homestead with him someday. Perhaps he could slow his plans down so he'd have more time to learn. He didn't want to be the reason they failed. Failure in the Territories meant death.

Derek removed his muddy clothes and changed into his pajamas, which Mischief must have laid out for him. The workers teased him more. They all had some sort of soft indoor clothes, similar to coveralls but of a different material. He put on a housecoat and stepped into the kitchen where Mischief was busy working with another omega by his side, preparing foods at a fast pace while snapping orders at a chicken on the kitchen floor that kept getting under foot.

“Move it, Bonnie! I swear, if you don't produce an egg tomorrow I'm going to _cook you_! Derek! Tell my dad that the heat isn't helping her! She's a lost cause!”

“Yeah, Derek! Tell his daddy!” Marco from another pack mocked.

Derek pecked a kiss to his cheek, then headed for the dining room where the other workers were headed. As he passed that beta he grinned at him proudly, “I'd rather be whipped by his cute ass than that bull who pissed on you today.”

The man laughed and clapped Derek on the shoulder, and they all sat down at the table to start passing bowls around to load up their plates. The omegas paraded in at the same time, bringing the rolls fresh from the oven and pitchers of _cold tea_ that Derek gaped at in horror. The alphas and betas all quickly stood up until the omegas had found their seats, with Mischief seated between Derek and his father. His mate gave him a shy smile as Derek pushed in his chair.

“I hope you like dinner,” Mischief stated, sipping from his Evil Tea while Derek tried not to grimace at what had to be the most disgusting taste in the world.

“I get the rejection of tea- synonymous with crown and tyranny- but... _cold tea?”_

“It's iced tea,” Mischief blinked in confusion.

“That's what cold means.”

“No, it's _iced_ tea. It's refreshing after a hot day of work. We only have it during special occasions because we don't like to use up the ice.”

“To celebrate your mating,” An Irishman stated.

“Oh,” Derek picked up the glass slowly, “Thank you all. It's... a drink.”

Mischief snickered and took it from him, “It's fine, dearest. You don't _have_ to drink it.”

“Thank goodness,” Derek breathed out.

Noah chuckled lightly, “Mischief, if you start catering to him now you'll never get him to do what you want like you do with everyone else.”

Derek snorted, “Promise?”

“Yeah, I think he's doomed,” Mischief laughed, but gave Derek a sideways glance to make sure that was alright.

Derek touched his hand gently where it gripped his fork, “I have faced worse fates.”

Before they could begin to eat an omega woman and a beta woman walked in the door, making all the alphas rise again as they fell into the chairs in relief. Noah looked uncomfortable and Mischief had a panicked look on his face. The omega was sitting beside Noah and Derek had a feeling that this was Mischief's _mother._

“Noah, dear,” She intoned, “Aren't you going to introduce me to our company?”

“Not _my_ company,” He muttered.

“Traitor,” Mischief grumbled.

“Mischief?” She asked, her tone firm.

“Eh he he,” Mischief laughed awkwardly, “Mom, I'd like you to meet Derek Hale. Derek, this is Claudia Stilinski. Derek came here to... uh... claim me as his mate.”

Claudia turned shockingly perceptive eyes on him and Derek froze under her scrutiny. Mischief had her eyes, and the intelligence behind them was awe inspiring. He felt as if she were looking _right through him_ into his soul. This was an omega? She felt like an alpha! After a few seconds of them just staring at each other she turned to her plate and began loading it with potatoes.

“That's nice, dear.”

Derek gaped, Mischief grinned, Noah rolled his eyes and let out a sigh like he had nothing further to say.

Derek was surprised by the taste of the food. British food was notably either spicy or bland, there was little in between. There were vegetables here he'd never had before, and flavors he immediately liked quite a bit. It was savory and satisfying, the food filling and meant to hold one over after a hard day of work. Derek would sleep well... after claiming his mate.


	7. Chapter 7

The Temple. Derek had never set foot in one, because the only times he bedded omegas was long after they stopped being considered pure enough to enter a Temple. Yet here he was, at the door of a Temple with Mischief's family around him looking as if he were murdering their son instead of claiming him. Satomi just looked serene, though she gave Derek a sad look when they first greeted each other. She didn't tell him he looked like Talia, and for that Derek was grateful. Those were words he had started to hate.

As was required to ensure the mating was a good one, Mischief and two other omegas would be bathed and then brought into a chamber and covered in woven blankets to hide their features. To avoid other scents on clothing distracting him, they would be naked beneath them, a thought that had Derek aching. He'd get to see Mischief naked for the first time in this strange place, and the urges combined were overwhelming. He was out of his territory- not that he had had one in years- and that meant vulnerable. His urge to bite/claim/knot Mischief was making him pant and sweat. Since Derek had scented Mischief already, it was more of a formality. He knew who he would be taking home, but the family had to be _sure_ that he would choose their son, would care for him, even if temptation presented itself. Derek had to prove he craved him even when presented with other omegas.

Derek paced in an antechamber until he was allowed through, feeling as if he'd descend into madness before being allowed to mate Mischief. He'd contained himself for the day of work despite his mate being _so close_ at hand, but now it was as if the very ceremony had decimated his patience. He was growling as he stalked through the doorway, hunkered down as if he were hunting instead of going towards happiness. Two unknown omegas stood with Mischief, likely equally naked and wanting a mate. He sniffed at the air so that no one witnessing could decide he'd skipped a crucial step. Then he headed forward to scoop Mischief up, carrying him mate-style through an archway that symbolized home.

In olden days, this symbolic dance was a literal event. When children approached adulthood around twelve years old, their scent would start to change. It was customary then and now to cover them with shawls coated in their alpha's scent whenever they left the house so that if they emerged as an omega in public it would protect them from rape and abduction. Eventually the scent would become too powerful and lust-crazed alphas would abduct omegas whose parents hadn't yet found them mates, rape, and claim them. Now the law punished alphas who stole omegas, often sending the 'soiled' omegas to Facilities where older alphas who wanted a second omega could collect them and take them home to be their pretty little trophy mate. Instead, Temples had popped up. They were safe places where an omega's family could bring a child who had emerged and make sure they were claimed in a civilized fashion, by someone who truly desired them. They might even interview them first if the omega were young and the alpha willing.

Derek set Mischief on his feet pulled the blanket off of his head and nuzzled into his neck, making him giggle as he held him tightly in his arms. Derek couldn't wait to get his mate home, and the Temples didn't expect them to. A mat was provided on the floor, woven rushes that would be thrown out when they were through. Derek snatched up his mating blanket and threw it on top, because his mate looked so soft when bare and the rushes would scratch.

“I can't believe this is happening,” Mischief breathed as Derek pulled him against himself.

Derek didn't speak. He had spent every word he needed to share with him on their letters and the ceremony had left him near feral. He pulled Mischief against himself with a hungry growl. His mate let out a soft sound just before their lips met and then scritched at Derek's hair deliciously. Derek moaned into his mouth, hungry for Mischief the way he hadn't been for another in so long. There was a moment of struggle when Mischief was far more interested in worshipping Derek's chest with mouth and hands than spreading his legs.

“Mischief!” Derek snarled, pushing him away sharply, “Now!”

Mischief startled at his words, then stumbled backwards towards the mat and toppled to the ground in a pile of long limbs. Derek rolled his eyes hard and pounced. He sat before Derek in nothing but big doe eyes, Derek now finally free to take him into his arms, but hesitated at the look on Mischief's face.

Mischief smelled of fear and desire, his body not far from going on heat in an effort to lure Derek in since he hadn't yet claimed him. Derek had to claim him. Immediately if he didn't want Mischief to spend a week or more burning with lust and clouding Derek's mind. Mischief stared down at Derek's body, eyes focused on his much larger phallus, and flushed a brilliant shade of red. His eyes bled to black and his canines extended.

“Derek,” Mischief whispered, his lust thick in his voice.

Mischief was gorgeous with his smattering of moles decorating his body, his face and neck flushed, and his slim cock leaking against his belly. Derek was nearly overcome and had to quickly fetch a skin from his bag. He hoped he could contain himself enough to stay calm for him. He didn't want to rough up his virginal body with his ardor, and Derek was far too used to meeting his own needs over those of other people's.

Derek slid the skin over his aching length, knowing that he wasn't going to be able to control himself for long. Derek knelt down on the mat where Mischief hooked his ankles behind Derek's legs and dragged him down between his thighs in a reverse of his greeting by the door. Derek let himself be pulled down, wrapping his arms around Mischief's body to hold him tightly against himself.

Derek's hips moved of their own accord, sliding against Mischief's drenched thighs and seeking entrance as his mouth moved towards the mating gland. It was at an odd angle from the front, but he wouldn't mate a virgin who was shaking with nerves from _behind._ He'd find a way to claim him, but that meant he had to do it _before_ entering his body since Mischief was so tall. Derek used the hands behind Mischief's back to pull him forward, ignoring his frantic tugging and whines of need, in order to finish what had to be done.

Derek found the little bump beneath his flesh, between shoulder and neck, and bit down, a salty-sweet tang flooding his mouth that had his knot swelling instantly. Their hearts stuttered and then slid into sync as Mischief's scent changed to claimed.

“Derek!” Mischief screamed, a splash of fluids hitting his belly as Mischief climaxed in his excitement. He was meant to be inside of Mischief already at this point, but stopping Mischief's heat was more important than sating his own needs, otherwise the urge to breed would overwhelm common sense.

“Oh, Mischief,” Derek panted, gathering Mischief's release to dampen his own length. He moved up to press his cock against Mischief's entrance.

Mischief's body had relaxed with his culmination, so the tip and first inch slid in easily, popping past his first ring of muscles and surrounding Derek's cock with tight heat. Mischief's slick had drenched him perfectly, but it still took a slow bit of movement to get himself seated inside him up to his knot. Mischief whimpered throughout, alternating between trying to pull him in and trying to push him out. Derek took his pain and searched for that spot that would thrill him. It felt like ages, and all Derek wanted was to knot Mischief and fill the skin up with his release.

Derek nearly wept when Mischief began to moan and roll his hips in pleasure, allowing him to properly thrust into his body. As his hips sped up Mischief's excitement rose, and Derek thanked whatever spark of life had created them for prostates. When Mischief was lost to pleasure Derek took his chance, pulled out as far as the head, and thrust in hard while pulling Mischief's pain. He let out a sharp cry of surprise at the pressure he felt, but Derek's method had succeeded. Mischief's first time wouldn't be tainted with agony as his body learned to take his knot.

Instead, Derek was treated to the bliss of his knot being gripped by Mischief's tight, gorgeous body. He had heard that knotting a mate felt different than knotting someone he wasn't bonded to, but he had assumed that was romantic bullshit. He had never been more wrong. Sex in general was satisfying, but this was overwhelming. It wasn't just the pulse of his seed leaving his body, his muscles clenching as orgasm pounded through him, and the flood of pleasure chemicals. It was the smell of the man below him, the taste of the bonding chemicals that had just spilled in his mouth. Derek's climax went on and on, dragging more seed from him until he was gasping for breath, Mischief's lay clutched in his arms as his mate clung to him. Derek had never felt such gratification. He had thought he'd been obsessed with Mischief before hand, but now he knew that no omega would ever thrill him like his pretty little fox. He was going to have a visceral reaction to him for the rest of their lives.

Derek wanted to fall asleep immediately but he was in a strange place where his dozing mate was vulnerable, and he had a very full skin that had to be carefully slipped free. So he forced himself to stay awake, instead propping himself up on one elbow to stroke Mischief's cheek and stare down at his face. His coal eyelashes fluttered occasionally, but he was deep asleep beneath Derek's body. Derek couldn't take his eyes off of him. He was _gorgeous._ That hair of his was particularly engaging, and Derek spent some time running his fingers through it until it got sparky and made him chuckle as it fluffed out.

Finally he felt his knot begin to release. He had to get his cock out before it went down completely or the skin would spill inside of Mischief. He pulled free slowly, keeping a grip on the sheepskin just behind his knot, and managed to pull the bulbous mass free without spilling his seed. Mischief stirred as Derek's weight left his body, reaching for him with a soft whimper, but Derek had to dispose of his seed quickly. There was a nearby spitoon that allowed him to simply drop the bag of semen inside and return to Mischief where he was blinking sleepily up at him.

“We're done? It worked?” Mischief asked, touching the tender spot on his neck and wincing.

Derek was _far_ from done, but he didn't want to continue to mate him in a Temple.

“If you mean we're mated, yes, but I used a skin to stop you from getting in a family way. We can't well travel to new lands and start your farm with you heavy with child,” Derek reminded him.

Mischief's face lit up like the sun, “I have you for now. That's enough.”

A sign with a wash basin on it led Mischief to a place to wash up, and Derek joined him mostly because he just couldn't leave him alone so soon after bonding. Mischief cleaned his body while blushing as Derek washed, so unused to the attention of a non-familial packmate over his nude form. As an unmated omega of breeding age he had been kept locked up during full moons while their pack celebrated nude beneath the moon without him, which was the only time nudity was allowed as it was the 'uncivilized' time.

Once Mischief was clean they were free to leave, and Derek helped him into his corsets just so he could keep his hands on him. It was late in the night, basically morning, and they were exhausted. Mischief didn't bother to stifle yawns as Derek led him back out to where his parents were waiting. Satomi had turned in already. Noah and Claudia were dozing on a bench nearby, having retired there once Derek had carried Mischief away. Derek didn't know if they had stayed behind the woven screens to witness the mating to ensure he had been kind to Mischief or if they'd left it to a Temple guardian. If they had, they hadn't any complaints, because they greeted Mischief with a smile and a big hug to congratulate him. Gone were the tears. They seemed relieved now, rather than distressed that he was 'taking' their son from them.

They returned to the farm house, where the scents of other packs were now actually frustrating Derek. As a lone alpha without a pack to support an omega he'd entered Mischief's pack by claiming him, and now that meant that those he'd met were _his_ and those from other packs were _dangerous._ Mischief's room hadn't been used since he'd emerged. Instead he'd shared a bed with his parents. Their room had a pack bed in it, big enough for many in the pack to snuggle together during a full moon. Derek immediately felt a pang of pain and loss at the sight as they said goodnight. He had missed out on so much when his pack had been killed. Once upon a time he had laid in such a bed, snuggled between his mother and father or his siblings, sleeping away the full moon's pull the morning after. Hell, he had even missed out on his alpha mother explaining knotting to him. A whore had taught him that lesson.

So stunned was Derek by the sight of the huge bed that he missed part of the conversation and had to be tugged back to the present by Mischief's eager pulling on his arm.

“Derek? Mum and dad want us to stay here tonight, but we can go to the other bed whenever we... _need_ it. We could just use that room for storage, right?”

Mischief's eyes told the truth. He didn't want to leave his parent's bed yet. He was young for a mated omega, just nineteen, and Derek knew that it wasn't uncommon for poor packs to stay together in such a way until a pair moved away, if they ever did. His own family having separate beds for each child was actually unusual, and in all honesty unsuccessful. He spent most nights in a siblings bed or them in his. Closeness was key to a werewolf, it was how they functioned and kept their inner wolf in balance with their human side.

“Yes, if course,” Derek nodded, while Noah looked pinched and distressed. He was used to making decisions for Mischief, not this barely known alpha. Derek himself would have rather taken Mischief a few more times, but he smothered his lust since his mate looked so tired and was holding onto his mother's skirts... literally.

Mischief beamed, pressing a kiss to his lips, and began to undress again. Derek froze. He didn't _know these people_. He turned his back and began to strip down to his pantaloons and turned shyly to see that the rest of the family was the same. Claudia and Mischief were in their chemises, with Mischief kneeling behind her and helping her wrap her hair around scraps of cloth to give it shape by morning. Derek wanted to help so he climbed over the bed that took up most of the room to get to where they sat by the baskets that kept their odds and ends in. Mischief glanced over and when Derek held out a hand he let him join in. Noah slid into the bed and grumbled at them that he had to be up in a few hours.

“Almost done,” Mischief insisted, winding faster. Derek hadn't done it in a long time, but he quickly got the method back into his fingers and got quite a few in. They didn't actually finish, but it would be enough to make her look put together the next day.

Mischief then turned and scrambled into the bed beside his father, snuggling up to his side happily and waiting for his mother to join him.

Noah cleared his throat and gave him a shove, “You got a mate now, kiddo.”

“Oh!” Mischief scrambled away and Claudia laughingly climbed past him to lie beside Noah instead.

Derek turned where he knelt and moved towards Mischief's new position, smiling as he settled into the bed beside his mate. _His mate!!_ Mischief was practically vibrating with excitement as Derek cozied up to him, and Derek worried he wouldn't sleep. The rest of the small pack was soon snoring, and Derek was well on his way to joining them as Mischief snuggled into his arms. He felt so right, and smelled so good, especially with Derek's claim fresh on his skin despite washing. To his surprise Mischief snored first and the sound warmed his heart. He wasn't alone anymore.


	8. Chapter 8

It was already nearly time to start their day, Derek having woken up early due to the time changes and his previously wild life in England. He'd had only a few hours of sleep, but his brain was convinced it was time to rise. He snuck out to use the outhouse, which of course garnished grumbles from the tired group in the bed. Noah and Claudia got up while he was in the loo, but Mischief collapsed for a few more minutes of sleep and Derek promised to wake him up before the horizon lit up. Derek watched Mischief snooze until the horizon began to glow and then shook him awake. He pouted and grouched about not getting enough sleep, but once his corset was laced and his dress and apron in place he was off like a shot without his shoes.

Derek went downstairs expecting breakfast, but it turned out Mischief wasn't there and neither were the rest of the omegas. He was in the barn, his collar turned down low to show off his new claiming mark, as he checked on the lamb and ewe from the day before. He then began a hurried routine of feeding the animals while the omega from another pack he'd seen in the kitchen the day before started milking the goats. Noah entered the barn and scowled at Derek.

“Derek! He doesn't need watching anymore! You're helping me until you get situated! C'mon!”

“Sir!” Derek replied, but barely contained the scowl. He didn't like being ordered about by a near stranger, especially a beta. However, Noah had seniority and Derek was expected to obey despite gender.

The day went by with a flurry of activity. After the animals were fed, the people were, and Mischief never stopped moving even during the breakfast meal. Derek had spent the pre-breakfast time doing quick tasks around the building, mainly repairs and carting things up from the cellar for the omegas. Then he ate and sped off to the fields with Noah and many others.

It was during their mid-day break, when they were re-hydrating and eating a light snack, that an alpha approached him who smelled of his current pack.

“Hey,” The alpha sat beside him, “So, you and Mischief, huh?”

“Mm,” Derek nodded, eating another bite of cucumber. It was surprisingly needed in the hot weather.

“Did he mention me?” He asked.

Derek's eyes narrowed. He wasn't the alpha that Mischief had fooled around with, that had been a woman, which meant he had to be the 'brother' who Mischief so desperately missed.

“Scott?” Derek guessed.

“Yeah!” Scott looked relieved, “Oh, I miss him so much! We barely speak anymore, even though we live in the same house! It's not _proper._ It's been years and we sneak around when we can to- oh, we're like brothers, I'm not going to try to take him from you. I don't even want him, but I _miss him_. They wouldn't let me near him _at all_ when he started going on heat out of season.”

Derek nodded, recalling Mischief's had written about that issue, “His body needed a mate badly. That won't happen anymore. He misses you, too.”

“I know I'm allowed to, like, be near and talk to him now, but if you were present and I swore I wouldn't try anything shady, could I hug him? I just _miss him so much.”_

Scott sounded so choked up that Derek gave his shoulder a light squeeze, “Mischief mentioned us forming a pack together and traveling, but I think his parents have put the breaks on that for now. If we did, I'd expect us to be a team. To watch our omegas together. I'd have to trust you for that.”

Scott nodded eagerly, “You can trust me.”

“Can you trust me with _your_ omega?” Derek asked.

Scott froze, eyes lighting up red while his expression looked stunned and vulnerable. Derek nodded.

“You can hug Mischief,” Derek decided.

“Wh-what made you change your mind?”

“You love _your_ omega, and I trust Mischief. You aren't a threat.”

Scott smiled warmly, “He really loves you. I can see it, even from a distance.”

Derek let a small smile grace his face, “Good. Now come see it from close up.”

That night at dinner Derek pulled Noah aside and asked him to scoot down the table so Scott could sit by Mischief. Noah gave him an odd look, as if he'd broken his heart, before tamping it down and nodding sharply. When Mischief came in with the food to see Scott sitting in his father's seat, and Derek holding the seat beside him, his eyes grew a bit damp. He served the rolls, gave his dad a kiss to soothe him, and scooted down into his seat. For a moment Mischief's head was down, staring at his plate, and then he leaned to one side and Scott's arm slid around his shoulders.

“I've missed you _so much,_ brother,” Scott sniffled.

“I don't even know your mate's name,” Mischief whispered back, leaning into him heavily, “Melissa said it would look odd if I knew too much about you.”

“Kira. She's a kitsune and her mom taught her how to fight with a sword.”

“She sounds _amazing.”_

“Wait till you meet her. You're gonna love her.”

After dinner Derek was eager to get Mischief back to the spare room and into the unused bed there before everyone finished eating and he was required for cleanup. He had been picturing Mischief on his hands and knees all day, and wanted to show him the glory of his favorite position. However, Mischief's parents stopped them on their way upstairs and asked them to step into _their_ room. He smothered the irritation even though it meant he likely wouldn't get Mischief alone that day. In most cases newly mated couples had nearly a month of isolation to allow them to bond, breed, and get their scent all over each other to allay the distress caused by others being nearby. In a farm setting in a new world it meant they stole kisses like betas, sneaking off whenever they could to get frisky before heading back to work and hoping that no one would miss them and give them a lecture for leaving work undone.

“Claudia and I have been talking,” Noah stated, looking grieved as he did so, “She pointed out how awful Mischief's repeat heats were for him, how much he needed me to find him a mate and didn't. She thinks that you're... you're what he needs now. That being said, I don't think that _this_ is what he needs. Much to my wife's concern, I agree with Mischief and Scott. They need to move on out of here.”

“Did you hear that?! We're going to go to the Territory!” Mischief crowed, but then paused, “Wait, don't you mean we?”

Derek could see both parents fighting back tears.

“Not we, Mischief,” Noah replied, voice rough, “Just you and Derek, and Scott if he plans to go.”

“We've a contract, Mischief,” Claudia told him sadly, “You were an unmated minor when we signed it, so you're free to leave whenever you want, but we're stuck here. We have a debt to pay.”

“A debt, but,” Mischief stopped bouncing with excitement, “No. No, we were saving up. You've got money put away. Don't you?”

Claudia shook her head, but was too upset to explain.

“We were struggling in Poland, Mischief, but we were _dying_ here. We wouldn't have made it. You nearly didn't. Satomi hired us from the docks where we slept every night, your mother begged by day, and I labored daily to get enough food to feed _one_ of us! Your mother's milk dried up from starvation...”

“We had to feed you wet bread!” Claudia sobbed, “You were getting so thin. It's a miracle you survived.”

“Satomi saved your life, nursed us both back to full health, put a roof over our heads, and meanwhile the cost of all that added up. There's rent to live here, son, and so much debt from the first few weeks that we're not out of it yet, especially since we have expenses adding on to it each day. Everything we eat or drink here means we're not putting that money towards paying her off.”

“Then... you're working for free? You're slaves? No wonder you were so outspoken-”

“No,” Noah spoke up sharply, “We're _not_ like slaves. Mischief, listen carefully, we _get_ paid. We choose how much goes back to the boss and how much we hoard or spend, but slaves? They get nothing. They get _less than_ nothing. They get stolen from their homes. Beaten. They don't get to choose who they mate with. If a slave has an omega child, they don't get to raise them and see them married. They don't get to choose that child's mate. They get to watch the master take them into their own house and-”

“Noah!” Claudia cut him off.

“Leave here,” Noah told him firmly, “Go make a better life, make a better future for you and yours. Live the dream we thought we'd be getting in the Americas. Get the government land they promised, because it means you can be Satomi instead of us!”

“I don't want to be _her!”_ Mischief spat out.

“Mischief,” Derek touched his shoulder, “That's not what he means.”

“I know what he means! He means they're staying _here_ instead of coming with us!”

“It's the better choice, Mischief,” Claudia told him gently.

“I've never been without you,” Mischief whispered, “I've literally _never_ been without you. Between working the farm when I got old enough, and then emerging... you even walk me to the outhouse day and night! How on earth will I do _anything_ without you!”

Mischief was starting to breathe hard, eyes wide and panicked as Derek pulled him in. His mother stepped forward to touch his cheek gently, not daring to pry a recently mated omega from his mate's arms, even to comfort him.

“With grace, dignity, and when that fails, sarcasm,” She smiled fondly, “You'll be _fine,_ Mischief. You have this strong alpha who adores you and _actually_ listens to you. The Moon knows I never thought we'd find you that!”

“You'll have Scott, Melissa, and hopefully Kira,” Noah told him, “And eventually, you'll have a cub of your own. Probably several. You'll understand then why it's so much more important to us that you leave than stay.”

“No!” Mischief shouted, “We'll sign on! We'll join you! With four incomes the debt will pay down faster and-”

“I submitted the paperwork already,” Claudia spoke softly, “It's in the mail. Once your title and map come in, you'll leave. No arguing.”

“Mom, no!” Mischief pleaded.

“If you want to make things easier on us you'll _go,”_ Noah insisted, “It means less mouths to feed and less agony over not giving you the life you deserve. We just want you to be _happy,_ Mischief.”

Mischief looked hurt, but Derek put an arm firmly around his shoulder and nodded. He steered him away from his distressed parents, deciding they needed a moment, and back out into the hall. Derek decided that talking to Scott was important enough to delay his moments with Mischief, so he pressed a kiss to his forehead and headed back out into the hall to sniff out Mischief's brother's room. He had to know if he was indebted as well.

Derek gave the door a sharp rap, squeezing Mischief's hand as he sniffled beside him, and wasn't surprised when Scott answered while looking tired and half asleep in a housecoat. He had probably passed out after the emotional dinner in which he'd held Mischief the entire time, causing the silly omega to eat left-handed. He'd had to lean over his plate. It had been rude, but when people glared at him to rein Mischief in he had just glared back at them. His mate needed his brother. Now more than ever.

“We're leaving for the west,” Derek stated.

“South-west,” Mischief sniffled, “It's closer and uncontested. Leave after May 1st for the West and you'll end up eating your own leg to survive.”

Scott's eyes went wide, but he gamely ignored Mischief, “What, now?!”

“No, when our papers get here,” Derek frowned.

“No, no, I already put in my paperwork!” Scott shook his head and looked frantic, “I have land already! My dad was traveling and took a look at it, he said it's really healthy land, with a creek running by so we'll always have water and everything! It's perfect!”

Derek huffed in frustration, “His parents submitted it for us. Mischief must have missed the news you got yours already. Damn the system that kept you two apart! You're supposed to be collaborating!”

Scott jolted forward, making Derek jump in surprise, but before he could claw him he had an armful of Scott McCall. The alpha hugged him tightly, “Mischief was right. You're a good guy, Derek. We can go out there, look at the other plot, and figure out which is better? We're allowed to sell the titles. Or we could keep the other for his parents someday if it's not too far away! Or, oh! We could get started on one plot and then maybe if it's not enough to support a multi-family we might need a second. I mean, that's a thing, right? Trading plots to be nearby?”

“I think we should go to yours,” Derek stated firmly, “It's already late in the planting season, we still have to build a home, we're going to be up shit's creek if we don't have what we need by winter.”

“You want to go _this year?”_ Scott looked hesitant.

Derek grimaced, “Mischief is going to be pregnant if we wait much longer. When winter heat hits I won't be able to hold off.”

“Oh? Oh!”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Yeah. Okay. I'll put the pressure on Kira's parents tomorrow. They've been holding out for a better dowry for Kira, but I just don't have anything else, you know? If they don't let her go I'll... I'll just... leave with.... without her.”

Derek watched as Scott's face wilted. He had no idea what time they had had together. Even in the same house Scott hadn't even been able to _talk_ to Mischief once his heats had become rapid-fire. Of course, Kira might still be having yearly heats instead, meaning that she could court with a chaperone. Scott was clearly in love with her, but if her parents wanted a wealthy alpha then nothing either of them could do would ever change that fact.

Mischief's voice perked up from behind Derek, “Would a plot of land we're not using count as a better dowry?”


	9. Chapter 9

Derek's things were already packed, and Mischief didn't have much to speak of. Derek signed the papers for Scott to buy the land from him, making sure it would be valid when the papers finally arrived. They charged Scott the price of a new pair of stockings. It was Mischief's version of a joke. Scott took Derek's letters immediately to the Yukimura's as proof that they could have free land in less than a month if they just wrote up the same trade papers, but for the cost of one young omega. As betas they wouldn't qualify without Scott giving them this option, so it was more desirable than even money despite not yet being in hand.

If it didn't work out he admitted he would give up on her. He didn't want to, but what else could he offer if they had refused all his money _and land?_ They were strict, demanding a huge amount of funds for their beautiful and talented daughter, and ignoring her pleas to have Scott as her mate. There were many others also courting her- or rather her parents- but Scott and Kira had been drawn to each other's scent. He had spent exactly zero time alone with her, always with a guardian, but scent didn't lie. They were _meant_ to be together, and Scott was morose with the fear the plan would fail just because they had planned to have their daughter be a pretty decoration in a rich alpha's house.

What little funds the Stilinski parents had they gave to Mischief and Derek- it amounted to a month of their pay- and Derek collected for his own labor. Mischief, as an omega, had been collecting the lowest pay of them all and had sent most of it to Derek to get him to the new world. Scott was offering all of it to Kira's parents so he couldn't contribute, but of course he was providing the land and a carriage he'd built for them to travel there. He'd gone with a big one, thankfully, but Derek doubted it was big enough considering they had to bring _all_ their things and food enough to survive the winter for _four people_.

He found himself cutting down on unnecessary things, figuring the worst he could do was not have food. What he wouldn't bring Mischief moved into his parent's room since they wouldn't be renting his out anymore. The crates his unneeded things had been in were loaded with dried food and huge clay jugs full of pickled food that could be reused to pickle new food. He bought a box of tools on the cheep that he hoped would last through a house build, along with a second, new ax. Mischief shamelessly stole chicken eggs he knew were fertile, one from each nest so as to sneak it by.

Melissa was not in debt to Satomi, so she was going as well. Their only beta in a tiny and very new pack. She used what little savings she had on a goat with a full milk supply. Mischief had hoped for a pregnant one, but the season was past to breed her and the milk was a literal need for them. Mischief helped her frantically pack up her things, selling what she didn't need to others in the building for far less than it was worth in their hurry to leave before all chances of spring planting was gone. In addition to the goat, she had some seedlings she had started in her windowbox, including tomatoes and mint for warding off biting insects as Scott's father had mentioned there were swarms there.

They loaded up the carriage and planned to leave at first light once Scott got his answer. Mischief was keeping the eggs warm in a pouch on his body, guarding them like they were his cubs. A case of previously promised root vegetables and pouches of seeds were their mating gift from Satomi and Derek accepted it while Mischief stewed in silence nearby, obviously wanting to throw it in her face. Their relationship was obviously destroyed, but Satomi just gave him a sad smile and told Derek that people did what they had to do to survive, including put others in debt to keep a farm going... or steal eggs to start one. Derek ignored it the next morning when he found a whole ass chicken in a wire cage sitting on Mischief's precious eggs. It was Bonnie, from the kitchen, and he doubted anyone would miss her for more than one meal.

Mischief left his parent's bed before sunrise the next morning, pressing against them and letting the tears freely fall for a moment before leaving them to catch a few more hours of sleep. They had a lot more to do before they could leave and wanted to start off the second the sun rose. Mischief fed and watered the animals, tying the goat to the side and making sure Bonnie was too content to harm the eggs when the wagon started moving.

Derek double checked the carriage by lantern light, glad he'd brought the most useful things from England. He had two lanterns, oil, candles, spices, salts for preservation, a small stash of dried foods including meats, blankets galore, spares of clothing, a dress he'd bought for Mischief back in London as a mating gift, a few small and large tubs for cleaning and storage, pots and pans, the crates and trunks themselves could be utilized, and a small set of dishes that had survived the fire. Mischief brought his own clothes to the table, a birthing kit for livestock, a fire starting kit, a sewing kit, several jars of pickled goods, and whatever he could steal or guilt from the occupants of the house.

Derek had already got the cover on the wagon the day before, which was an ordeal that needed Noah, Mischief, and Claudia to help him with, involved much swearing, and his own personal promise that he'd _never take it off._

Scott came running down the lane at top speed just as Derek was starting to wonder where Mischief had suddenly disappeared to. He'd already said goodbye to his parents, and they were off working since the sun was about to come up. Derek gave up his search to greet the alpha who was grinning from ear to ear and out of breath from his run.

“They accepted! She's packing her things now!”

“We need all the light we have to-”

“They gave us donkeys as a mating gift!”

Derek threw up his arms, “They demanded money and then turned around and spent it on gifts?! Wait. Donkeys?”

“They can pull the wagon! We'll make half the time!”

Derek grinned in relief. He and Scott had planned to lash themselves to the wagon to pull it, a process that would be draining and require the omegas to keep them fed and hydrated throughout the journey, but the donkeys would significantly help.

“How many?”

“Just two,” Scott paused, “We'll still need to pull as well, but it will be much less of a burden.”

Derek did the math quickly in his head. The donkeys would be able to pull about 300kg each, but their wagon while loaded weighed at least 1500kg. They'd definitely still be pulling, but it wouldn't be the exhausting endeavor he'd envisioned. Maybe they'd even have the strength left over to hunt afterwards and preserve their stores.

“Where's Mischief?” Scott asked, sniffing the air, “He really took to being able to walk around unescorted.”

“Yeah, he did,” Derek paused before going to look for him, “Wait, did you two...?”

“OH!” Scott shouted, “THE TEMPLE!”

He took off running while Derek shook his head in amusement after him. He'd been gone the whole night and Derek had hoped that he'd spent it actually _claiming her_ , but apparently it had been in last-minute negotiations. And donkey buying.

Mischief was in his parent's room, sitting on the huge pack bed, ankles crossed over bare feet, his shoes on the floor beside it, his hands clasped. He was still and silent, no tears, just a cold anger burning in his eyes as he lifted his chin in acknowledgment when Derek entered.

“It's not even ours. I spent every night in here as a child, then moved back after I emerged, but it's not even ours.” Mischief stated softly, “Promise me- no matter what it takes- in the first year we will have _one thing_ completed. I don't care if we have a tiny shack to live in and a pit instead of an outhouse, just promise me we'll have-”

“I promise,” Derek stated firmly, hand on the big wooden post of the bed.

“You're a dream,” Mischief stood up, looking around himself as he did so, “But I had no idea I was living in a nightmare, so I guess that makes sense.”

“We'll make new dreams,” Derek told him, picking up his shoes from the floor, “In a place where you can be yourself. No more shoes unless it's snowing.”

Mischief laughed lightly, “I do hate shoes.”

“And your parents will join us as soon as they can. If we're successful we can send them things they can sell to pay off their debts faster. Furs we don't need. Maybe one of us will learn to carve or something.”

“Then we'll be successful,” Mischief's chin rose in defiance, “We're going to make it and we're going to be _amazing.”_

“That's the ticket,” Derek pressed a kiss to that pert nose and led him out the door.

Mischief, to his credit, didn't look back. He kissed his parents one last time, nuzzling them to mark them as pack even though they were still Satomi's, and then stood beside the wagon to wait for Scott with the sun to his back and his head raised high. Mischief was in Derek and Scott's pack now. A proud omega of the Hale-McCall pack, because Derek was determined that the Hale name not die out.

Finally Scott and Kira came down the lane, Kira riding on one donkey while leading the other that was piled high with belongings. Scott pulled a small garden wagon full of potted plants to add to their stores. One was a tea plant and Derek could have _wept_ to see it. He made Scott promise to keep it alive.

Kira was an eastern beauty, a little doll in pretty clothes that were not meant for travel. Her belongings, at least, were few. She didn't speak to them, likely so used to being seen and not heard as her parents had trained her to be stately and demure.... then she nearly fell off the donkey even with Scott helping her dismount. He just caught her, laughed, and nuzzled her neck with the devotion of a man newly mated. She looked so fragile that Derek wondered out loud if she shouldn't ride in the wagon.

“Is he riding in it?” She asked, indicating Mischief.

“No, he is helping pull it,” Mischief stated firmly.

“No you aren't,” Derek scoffed.

“Derek, this is the _wilderness_ we're heading to. Survival trumps your pride or my precious little feet.” Mischief stomped his actually _covered_ feet, “It normally takes oxen or six horses to pull a covered wagon loaded with food and household items for a _whole family._ We have two asses and two _donkeys_. I am pulling the wagon with you.”

“So am I,” Melissa stated, “We're all werecreatures here. We're not _fragile,_ Derek.”

Kira smiled softly and to Derek's surprise she shrugged out of the pretty silk kimono she'd been wearing to reveal more sensible clothes beneath. She folded it gently and placed it into a chest being loaded into the wagon. She then squared her shoulders and headed up to the front to where Derek was trying to lash in the donkeys with the unfamiliar straps. They had the werewolf tack based ones since they hadn't expected donkeys to be a factor, so he was trying to tie in strips of leather to make it work without roughing up the animals. It wasn't a huge difference, and Mischief seemed to know what to do and was directing him.

“Strap me in,” Kira insisted.


	10. Chapter 10

It was a month to get to their property, walking nearly 18 hours a day. To Derek's wonder Mischief, Melissa, and Kira kept helping them pull even though it was an exhausting and grueling task. They had to have one person out of the tack to bring them water, keep the goat in line, forage for food as they walked, and get things out of the road. They rotated the person who walked free each day.

Working together meant they made it before the spring growing season ended, although it was a close thing. The land they had was marked with a pike, the numbers from the title on a flag, and their acreage marked on a map that had come with Scott's title. There were plots beside them, but the acres of land they had were enough for a small family. Derek immediately worried about surviving if it needed to be expanded upon, but for now they had what they needed. If Mischief bore alpha children they'd be given more money or land, and from there they could perhaps buy the surrounding plots if they needed to.

“This doesn't include the creek,” Derek worried as he walked the property, knowing Mischief would pick up his voice from the carriage.

“No, they don't count bodies of water larger than a stream,” Mischief told him, “Otherwise people might fight for it.”

“But we can use it, right?” Derek asked.

“Yes, but I'd advise digging a well eventually, by next year if not this one. It will be cleaner and mean we don't have to go across the property for water. Plus if a neighbor gets that land than we won't have to worry about them fighting with us over use,” Scott decided, scoping out an area that he seemed to have decided was for their house. Derek left him to that sort of thing. He didn't know enough about working an honest living like they did. He would be the muscle for a while.

“It's _so hot._ I didn't expect it to be this hot,” Melissa complained.

“You are wearing an entire bed worth of layers,” Derek pointed out, then glanced around, “You don't have to here, you know? There's no one around but us, and we're pack. I mean, don't go naked just in case someone comes along, but you don't have to stand on civility here.”

“I suppose,” Melissa frowned, but didn't look adverse to the idea as she considered her clothes.

“These mosquitoes are going to be the death of me,” Kira complained, swatting at them. Most of the biting insects couldn't actually pierce their hide, but they were annoying and kept humming in her ears. The ones that could get through were _awful._

Mischief piped up from where he'd been stripping out of his clothes _far_ too eagerly, “We're not building by the creek. With it this humid I worry about flooding, not to mention the _fucking bugs._ We should hang something to keep them out at night.”

“That will block the breeze,” Melissa pointed out.

“Wishing I'd kept those stupid lacy curtains now,” Derek huffed.

“They'd go right through the lace. We need mosquito netting,” Mischief grumbled, “And chicken wire. _Why_ didn't I get chicken wire?!”

“Well, we don't have it,” Derek sighed, “We can make a chicken coop, but the netting is a problem. How are you at making some?”

Mischief gave him an offended look and shook his head, “Terrible at sewing, remember? That's Melissa's thing. I'm going to start looking the land over for a good planting spot. I want these roots in the ground _now._ They'll winter better that way and we'll have a crop as soon as possible. We might even get some for fall if we're lucky. _”_

“Is it too late?” Derek worried.

“For some foods, but not for what we brought. Scott and I planned ahead. Besides, it's awfully hot. This weather isn't like ours. I'm betting it's not too late to plant and I'm going to take that risk.”

Derek shrugged, “I trust you, farm boy.”

“Did we pass any developed farms on the way here?” Mischief wondered.

“No, none,” Scott shook his head, “Not since the last big city. It's completely empty. I saw a shed, but when I investigated it the thing was deteriorating. I'm guessing someone started out and then gave up or worse.”

“There has to be someone out here we can ask for advice!” Mischief fussed as he let the animals loose to give them a chance to roam and forage for food. The goat looked absolutely chuffed and bounded over to the creek for water. Mischief laughed and told Derek he was going to need to build a pen sooner rather than later.

“Pen first, then a house,” Derek agreed.

“Pen, outhouse, barn, then house,” Scott corrected, “We can keep sleeping under the carriage for a bit. Let's move it to the far side of the property, under those trees for shade. Derek, can you start on a pen while Mischief searches for good soil?”

“I'll keep an eye on the animals while you build,” Kira decided, looking worried. She wasn't trained for survival like Mischief and Scott were, and Derek at least had a bit of lessons under his belt and alpha strength and stamina. She was likely going to need to be trained, and until then she'd be relegated to herding their tiny group.

They worked together in silence for a while, Derek making cordage and finding branches of various thickness to build a pen with, thick for stakes and thin to weave a tight fence. He wanted the chickens to be safe, and those little tiny chicks were hopping about like mad already. Mischief walked the property, testing the soil and sniffing about. He let out a crow when he found a berry bush and harvested plenty, leading the chickens to it but telling Kira to keep the goat away. The chickens got the dropped berries and Mischief spared a handful for the goat to keep her healthy before he and the others split the rest eagerly.

“I wish I had an oven!” Mischief whined, “I'd bake a pie and they'd last longer!”

“Next time,” Derek stated, “We keep the goat off it and we'll have berries often enough in the years to come.”

“I'm going to get the chickens to stay in that general area, let them poop out some seeds. Maybe we'll get more bushes in time,” Kira agreed happily.

“I'm putting their pen _here_ ,” Derek fussed, indicating the area that had shade during most of the day, but still got some sun in the afternoon.

“That's fine! They won't always be penned up. Oooh, good cordage! You're good at that!” Mischief crowed.

Mischief pressed a kiss to his cheek and Derek melted a bit. They'd not had time or energy for sex much during the ride over, not with how fast they were trying to move, but he'd still found time to take him at least weekly. Now they were home he was experiencing an intense urge to have him... sans skins to prevent pregnancy. He wanted Mischief round with child, but if he had him now he'd give birth during a season they had no idea how to predict. It would be the _very_ end of winter, when food was scarce. He wasn't even sure when planting season started in this area. April? May? They were already in June, but it could be the start for all they knew. Perhaps the area would be heavy with animals waking up from winter then, or perhaps it would be barren and they'd be on the cusp of starvation. Even Scott's knowledge of planting season in America was useless in this completely different climate! Derek fought down a wave of panic as Mischief started marking the ground with a stick, planning things out so that they didn't cross each other's efforts again. Scott had already started marking areas for plants as well and it looked as if Mischief was going to be working with him to get their farm started.

“Okay, so here's my thoughts,” Scott called Derek and Mischief over, but left Kira to the animals.

Derek came over to see a sketch on the ground of their property, Mischief and Scott had worked it out, but Mischief explained it happily.

“The trees there, creek here, you get the idea. I think the house and barn should be by the treeline. We can get easy access to firewood, but we'll have to be on high alert. Predators will use those woods and we don't want to lose the goat or chickens. We'll have to keep them in the carriage at night for now. Stop groaning, they're not that bad. Greenhorn. So. Plants here. Water-hungry things here, of course. I want to plant fruit trees here and here. I think peas will grow _really_ well here, and it's the perfect time to get them going. It's too late for lettuce, but we'll keep the seeds for next spring or get a quick crop in the fall if the weather seems right. That will be here. The carrots are what I'm planting now. It's a bit early for a fall harvest, but I want the soil started as soon as possible and root veggies can weather to next year if needed. It's too late for cucumbers, but I might try to plant just a few seeds to see if we can get some cukes in to pickle. It can't hurt to try-”

“It really can,” Derek argued, “We won't get more seeds. What we have is what we can live off of. If we can't plant it _right now_ or soon, we need to save it for next year.”

Mischief waffled visibly, but didn't argue. Scott just nudged him, so apparently Derek's thoughts would be taken into consideration but Scott as the farm hand would make the call. That was fair. Mischief continued on.

“That being said, I was about to say we're not planting the tomatoes that aren't already in pots. I don't trust this weather until I see a full season, maybe not even then. I'm going to hoard the tomato seeds. Maybe start them inside when we have a house built because they do better as seedlings. The seedlings we have we're going to have to plant and pray to the moon to keep well.”

“Good call,” Derek agreed, glad to see Mischief reigning it in a bit, “What else?”

“The onions are already in pots, because I dug them up growing wild since they're a pain to start from scratch and there was no getting at them at the farm. No idea how they'll do here. My plan was to search for local herbs and berries. I have the fruit trees I mentioned, but they won't bear for _ages._ That's all we have aside from parsnips and I won't be able to plant them till next year. They're too touchy.”

“Okay,” Scott nodded, “You still have your old hair ribbons from when it was long?”

“Yup. Green for plants, red for buildings?”

“That works. I'm going to finish this pen before nightfall and get the chicks inside,” Derek nodded, “They doing okay?”

“They love this place, and so does Reggie,” Kira grinned.

“Who?” Derek wondered.

“The goat,” Kira pointed to her.

“You named our female goat... Reggie,” Derek wondered.

“Don't judge her, she's her own goat,” Mischief walked away while Derek shook his head in amusement. In all fairness, she looked like a Reggie.

Bessie was offended by the pen and flew out twice so Derek put sticks across and started tying them off to keep her annoying ass contained. He was swearing at her angrily while Mischief chuckled.

“Don't worry, she's not a layer. We'll eat her when times get tough. For now, how about you take a break to hunt?”

“That's a break?” Derek snapped irritably.

“Or splash in the water to cool off that hot head of yours,” Mischief frowned, gesturing to the creek, “I'm going to build a fire and boil some water to drink. That water tastes awful.”

“I noticed,” Derek grumbled.

As werewolves (and foxes) they were safe from dysentery, but that didn't make the nasty water enjoyable. Derek splashed into the creek, clothing and all, because it was _hot as hell_ , and the smell of the creek would probably help him hide from prey anyway. He wallowed in it for a bit and then settled under an overhang to just rest for a bit.

A duck came swimming by, and right behind her was a host of ducklings. Derek stared at them, wondering if catching ducklings was wise. They had an old hen to raise them. It might work, but they might also just die. It couldn't hurt to _try,_ and Mischief had complained about their horrid shortage of animals, so Derek jolted forward from the water and snatched up the last two ducklings and ran while the mother shouted after him.

Mischief was _not_ amused.

“Derek Alexander Hale, that is _not_ how you get ducklings! You feed the mother till she moves in with you like the bread-whores they are! Honestly! Snatching babies out of the water! Here, you go, momma,” Mischief cooed as he returned the duckling to the shouting mother, who was honestly _so offended_ as she swam off with her brood. The traumatized ducklings lagged behind and Derek worried that he'd really done damage, but Mischief just sighed and rolled his eyes.

“It's not true that they'll abandon ducklings who smell different. They can barely smell, to be honest,” Mischief assured him, “If you want to catch something to keep, try for wild piglets or goat kids, okay?”

Derek left in shame to go hunt in the woods, ignoring Scott's chuckling. It was the right time of year to find a momma and her piglets, but Derek wasn't good at hoping. The mountains were far off, but beautiful so he spent a moment studying them to center himself for a hunt before he slipped into the woods and began a true search.

Derek moved through the woods like silk and gathered information as well. He found bear scat, gigantic cat prints, and hooves of something a bit bigger than deer. Elk? Moose? Did moose live here? He'd heard tales of moose killing settlers during rut. He'd have to keep an eye out. He smelled fox, but of course didn't see them, as well as many rodents that were hidden in the soil and foliage. He saw deer, but they were far off and he wasn't sure of taking one down so he let them go. He didn't want them to stop coming into the area. Besides it was wise to hunt _far_ from home in the summer so you could still hunt close in winter.

The deeper he went into the woods the more he was sure they had made the right call. His fears over surviving the winter were dimming in the face of all the _life_ he found here. A wolf could wander these woods for a lifetime and never tire of them. He couldn't wait for their first full moon here. They'd slept out on the ground during their first full moon as a pack, too tired from pulling the wagon to do more than lay naked and moon-bathe after some lazy sex. He wanted to see Mischief's full form. He wanted to hear him howl. He wanted-

A howl was what he got, and Derek took off at a run to get back to his mate. He hadn't heard it till now, but he knew his omega's voice nonetheless. He burst from the woods and scared Mischief half to death. He'd been so distracted by what he'd been doing that he hadn't noticed his return. Mischief was trying to rescue a chick who had squirmed out of Derek's fence and fallen into a gopher hole. She was screaming in terror so Derek quickly dug her out and filled the hole in. The gopher would have another exit, and if they were lucky they'd have gopher for dinner in time. For now, the sun was setting on their first night there with nothing but canned food and a snack of berries to show for it. Mischief and Derek tightened up the chicken pen before putting them back in their tiny cage for the night, much to their fury. The goat fought the return to the carriage as well, but when Derek mentioned suspecting a bobcat was in the area his omega abandoned the bedding beneath and practically hugged her all night long.


	11. Chapter 11

The next day Mischief and Melissa woke to release the animals, stoke the fire, throw the animals food, put on a pot of water, milk the goat, hand out the milk for breakfast with some Johnny cakes, and start working on the fields. Derek noticed Mischief's spirits were flagging and suggested they walk in the woods together, but Mischief just gave him an annoyed look and kept tilling. Scott joined him after a moment of whining about not having a better breakfast. They had divided the fields up, using the donkeys to help till, and Melissa was building a fence to keep rabbits out.

Derek realized they had a lot more work to do than he'd realized once he took stock and that a day of rest wasn't in the cards. His successes from the day before felt weakened by Mischief's morose mood so he set out to bring him fresh meat since he made a better hunter than farm hand. They'd had little to eat along the way because they had been hurrying along, eating mostly tack, what they found growing by the side of the road, or could quickly catch. When they did eat fresh meat, it had been raw as they'd been more intent on getting calories in than taste. It had been a miserable journey and Mischief needed a win.

Derek found it in the form of some wild-grown herbs, a deer he _did_ manage to catch this time, and a few flowers to brighten his mate's day. He returned with the gutted deer tossed over his shoulder, flowers and herbs clutched in his free hand.

Mischief stood up and let out a cheer when he arrived just before noon, then held up his own score: a brace of fish he'd caught.

“Fish stew for lunch while she drains,” Mischief nodded to the doe, “Then I'll build a quick smoker and get us some jerky for the next few days!”

Derek handed Mischief the bundle of flowers and herbs, kissing his cheek, “Maybe some of these will flavor our fish.”

“Oh, Derek,” Mischief sighed out, “You're amazing.”

Derek went to the creek to wash up, helped Scott with the smoker for a bit, and returned when the stew was done. After he finished the stew, which they ate in abundance since preserving it wasn't an option, he headed for the deer to gut her. Mischief stopped him.

“I can handle that part. Animal care and their departure is my forte. Can you get us firewood and start on a barn for the goats and donkeys? I want them safe, so even getting half a wall up is a huge plus. We can stay in it with them for a while if need be.”

Derek agreed and they got to work, barely speaking for the next few days as they all focused on different tasks. He had run out of skins and couldn't take his mate safely anyway, so when they lay together their hands and mouths were all they had. Mischief was learning to give proper blowjobs and was as enthusiastic about it as he was all things. Derek felt like a god, despite the lack of actual fucking. The start of their farm was clear in lines by the time Derek started on more than a frame, layering the walls to make a pole barn. Scott knew more about the construction of a barn so he left Mischief and Melissa to the easier planting despite it not being 'his area'. Scott shouted answers to Mischief's questions as they went along, eager to learn more farm tasks, but Kira seemed uninterested in doing more than watching, a weapon at the ready should some creature approach their animals. Mischief seemed content and it put him at ease to know someone was keeping his precious farm animals safe.

The frame poles were the hardest part of the barn, digging down deep in the earth while keeping the hole narrow was difficult. Finally they had it done, filled in with stone and gravel to stabilize, and could connect the 'poles' to make a frame. They built it up from there, securing it using interlock and peg methods, and keeping an eye out for good coverings. Mischief and Melissa had to help them get the frame up for the roof. After the walls were on Mischief and Scott made the shiplap for the roof while Derek filled in the gaps in the walls and soon enough they had an _actual barn._ Reggie tolerated it. Derek had opted to put all the hinges they'd brought on the barn, knowing they'd have to make hinges for their home out of wood instead, so they had two large doors and one smaller one. The larger door allowed them to park the wagon inside if need be, which felt safer if there were an Ind*an or animal attack, which so far hadn't been a real threat on their minds. Fortune favored the prepared.

They slept in the barn for the time being, putting up with the animals while they slept on a small platform covered in grass and bedding. They lay all together, much less cramped than they'd been beneath the wagon where they only partly fit and a canvas had to be laid out to keep them dry. Derek listened as the other four chattered well into the night, the lantern out to preserve oil. He fell asleep to the feeling of _pack_ and _safety_ and _love._ It was something that he hadn't felt in so long he had almost been sure that his memories were instead a dream.


	12. Chapter 12

Derek then started working on digging out a latrine and building a frame around it for an outhouse. The woods weren't cutting it anymore. Their roots so far had been stored under the wagon in their crates in a dug out hole, but Mischief feared rot or rodents if they didn't get a proper root cellar going. So once Reggie was installed in her barn and the outhouse started by Derek, Scott transformed and took to digging a root cellar in the area they'd marked off as 'house'. The field was as far along as they'd get it for the moment, so Mischief left it to grow and focused more on helping the others.

Melissa and Scott lost three days just on digging out a root cellar, and found that the air wasn't the only thing waterlogged in their new home. The pit kept filling up with water, leaving them to create a chain to scoop the water out and deposit it back in the creek. They debated moving to another area, but the difficulty was that their entire area seemed to be damp. Thankfully it wasn't an underwater estuary they'd hit and eventually the water receeded. They'd have to make due since a cellar was a necessity. They dug deeper than planned and worked on drainage instead. Derek and Scott built a platform in the bottom, lining it with stone to keep it secure and aid in drainage, and built a stone floor and walls that they covered with roughly cut wooden planks. It meant the cellar had a lower ceiling than they'd planned, but it would be safe _._ Thankfully some moisture was wanted in a root cellar, but certainly not flooding. It took twice as long to build as they'd planned, but they certainly wouldn't have trouble digging a well at some point!

Last they made a flat gigantic stand with a trap door leading to their cellar by ladder. This would be the base of their home. Since there was no house over it yet, the cover of the wagon was sacrificed to keep rain from leaking down. Wooden shelves soon housed all their root vegetables and the urns of pickled foods. Mischief was relieved to find no mold, but Derek thought they were just lucky and worried when it would run out.

They celebrated their new 'floor', as the top of the root cellar would soon become. with a quick little party. For the moment it resembled a bandstand and Scott felt moved to grab a jug and blow across it while stomping one foot. Melissa joined him with a lovely, wordless song. Kira clapped and began to sway to the music in an exotic dance. Mischief dragged Derek onto the floor and into a quick two-step, showing him how Americans danced. Scott laughed and pulled Kira into a dance as well, abandoning his jug to Melissa who took it up to alternate between that and her eager cheers. Mischief had two left feet despite starting the dance with Derek, and they ended up toppling into some bushes and staying there to kiss for a while.

“You look like a chicken having a fit!” Kira laughed, kicking out her legs like Mischief had been showing them and then promptly tripping and falling as well.

Mischief lost it, laughing hysterically and pointing at them as he lay on the ground in the dirt and twigs that weren't far from their home's forest backing. Kira and Scott were moving clothes aside to enjoy more than a quick fumble so Derek left them to it and chased Mischief around the property while growling. He laughed and squealed and then climbed up a tree to escape him.

“Can't catch me!” Mischief stuck out his tongue while Derek laughed and started up it only to go still.

Mischief had stopped joking about and frozen where he crouched in the tree.

“What is it?” Derek asked.

“A cabin,” Mischief whispered, and then quickly climbed down, “It's another farm across the creek. How did we not see it?”

“That land was marked as someone elses,” Derek shrugged, climbing up the tree quickly, “We saw the shed when we came in, remember? It was ancient so we just ignored it.”

“There's more than a shed,” Mischief frowned.

Derek peered out across the treeline that separated them. There was indeed more than a shed! There was a cabin, an outhouse, a barn, and even what looked like a field. The field was so overgrown that if he'd seen it without context he wouldn't have thought it anything but grasslands.

“They've been gone a long time, Mischief,” Derek told him, climbing down, “There's no people there now.”

“Yeah, but... we need to build a house, and fast, and the cellar already took _wa_ y too long, and...” Mischief gestured across the creek.

Derek felt a chill, “That's a person's home, Mischief.”

“Not anymore.”

“Yeah, but...”

“It's how it's done, Derek. This is the _frontier,_ not civilization. Survival is more important than respecting a dead person's space. There's no reason to leave it there if there are no current owners. If this area weren't already being allocated by the government I'd say just move in there.”

“The new land owners might come in expecting a house,” Derek pointed out.

“It's pretty unlikely that anyone knows they're dead yet,” Mischief shrugged, “They check up when taxes are due, and don't collect from the distant areas but every five years. If so they knew there would already be new tags on the land. When the government notices and reassigns it the next family will have what we did: A map and a title. No expectations. Huh. I wonder if anyone died on _ours_?”

“Probably the Ind*ans who used to live here,” Derek replied morosely, and Mischief visibly winced. Derek recalled his parents had been against their slaughter and relocation, but couldn't take back his words or the truth within them.

Derek waffled back and forth and then decided Scott would make the call. He knew this world better than Derek. Scott and Kira finally managed to get out of the leaves and come join them in their discussion, and after a quick look up the tree Scott agreed with Mischief.

“Not surprised we didn't notice them,” Scott stated, “They have more trees than we do and they're _really_ set back there. In fact... I don't think that the shed we saw was part of their situation. It looked more like a way station, to be honest. C'mon, Derek. Mischief, Melissa, and Kira, get in the barn and stay there till we get back just in case. Don't want to meet the Donners.”

“Make me,” Mischief huffed, but Kira grasped his hand and pulled him along.

Derek followed Scott back the way they'd come weeks ago to find the dilapidated shed that Derek had noticed before but this time they went further onto the property. Derek had been in a hurry and dismissed it as a loss when he'd seen the out building was rotting, and when they looked closer they decided that this was part of an _original_ homestead. It had to be centuries old and built by the indigenous people. That didn't mean that the cabin was that old, especially since it was still standing from what they had seen in the distance.

The door to both cabin and barn were open to the elements, and the barn turned out to be one side of a barn propped up by the remains. It had collapsed long ago and the pieces were scattered about as if a wind had taken them up like twigs instead of great beams. Derek worried because it was obvious that this had been a sturdier barn than the one he had made but something had torn it apart like a creature from legend. Once inside the cabin there was a different type of damage in view. It was clear what had happened, but perhaps only to Derek who had seen this particular destruction of life far too much in the cities of London.

“They had food,” Scott pointed out needlessly, “They didn't starve. They just... died where they sat! What does that? Poison? I don't see any arrows or knife wounds or-”

“No, they weren't murdered,” Derek replied, studying a moldy plate on a table. The contents had long been eaten by nature, but like Scott had surmised, there was no reason to set a table if there wasn't food, “They died of illness.”

“How do you know for sure?” Scott asked, looking about in concern. There were enough bones scattered around to be concerning, but no visible weapons or weapon wounds. The animals had been at the bodies.

“Look at the decoration. No moons in sight. No wolves. No supernatural elements at all. Just that cross on the door, and I've seen those before in plague houses. These were humans, Scott.”

“They're so rare,” Scott frowned, “Why would they come out here? It's hopeless for them. I heard w _ater_ can kill them, for moon's sake.”

“To have a little corner of life all for themselves. Think of it, being so alone in the world. No pack. No connection to the elements, moon, earth, sun?”

“It sounds awful,” Scott whispered.

“They worship gods instead, I think, to give them comfort in the dark,” Derek explained, heading for the cellar door, “We used to at one point, too, but that changed when we turned to the moon.”

“Well, sickness explains the barely-started field. They didn't make it past the first _year_. Just built a home and then... died,” Scott stared down into the darkness of a hatch in the floor with eyes glowing, “Animals got into everything here already. Even the root cellar's been picked clean by burrowing rodents.”

“Then let's get some clothes and plates and such,” Derek decided, then paused, “Was there a bed upstairs? No, they wouldn't have had a pack bed.”

“Probably just a loft they'd lined with hay,” Scott stated as he began to climb up the ladder and then froze, “There are more bodies up there. It looks like the heat got to them before the animals.”

Derek paused, putting his greed at finding resources aside, “Please don't tell me they're mummified?”

“Afraid so.”

“Okay. That... needs to be taken care of. First we bury the bodies. Then we take this whole cabin apart. Wall by wall, if we can.”

“Shame we can't just pick it up and move it.”

Derek nodded. Physically it was possible with two werewolves, Mischief and Kira, but not over the terrain between both places. Besides it was affixed to the ground and the cellar below. They'd need to actually take it apart to move it.

“Let's get to work.”

When Derek and Scott returned from their macabre task with two trunks full of supplies, Mischief and Melissa were working on the farm without a care in the world.

“You were supposed to be inside!” Scott snapped, clearly distressed, “There might have been enemies in there that we routed out! They could have headed here and gotten you both!”

“We can't just _hide,”_ Mischief huffed.

“Mischief is right, we'd be sitting ducks in there anyway. It doesn't have a lock from inside.” Kira pointed out, “Besides, they wouldn't get us. My parents may not have taught me how to farm, but they taught me how to fight.”

“I'll get on the lock,” Derek told Scott,, trying not to glare at Kira, then dropped the trunk he'd been carrying down, “In the mean time Scott and I are pulling some heavy work. Mischief was right, the cabin's been abandoned for years and we're going to harvest the logs to build ours. Mind washing these? They stink.”

“What are they?” Mischief asked, then opened the trunk and went very, very still.

It was full to the brim with children's clothing. Mischief pressed his lips together, closed the lid, and carried it to the creek where he had a wash station set up. Derek had never heard a more profound silence in their little clearing. The birds had even dropped silent. Scott was urging Melissa to get the wagon out of the barn for them to use to drag the logs back. Once again Kira was left in silence to simply stand about... guarding them and hopefully learning while they were too busy to instruct her.

Kira herself had been trained to be a rich alpha's housespouse... and a warrior. Why her mother had chosen those two was beyond him, but she was more of the pampered type than Mischief was and slow to pick up their lifestyle. Derek worried she'd be a liability, but she put that to rest by announcing that she would keep Mischief safe while they fetched the things from the cabin. Mischief did _not_ look amused, but he already was fond of her. Derek knew that Mischief wasn't helpless, but having someone who was firmly devoted to protecting the animals and Mischief was a security he welcomed in this harsh land. Normally omegas weren't left unattended on a homestead, but they had too few people to be getting on with, so at least her skills had a place. For now.


	13. Chapter 13

The comfort of pack and safety of their food and animals meant that when the full moon rose the next night the pack felt safe to transform and celebrate her cry. Derek hadn't _enjoyed_ a full moon in years, and Mischief had had his first without his parents when they'd been traveling and had hated it. Without pack or territory a wolf felt like hiding instead of celebrating. As such Derek had yet to see his mate's full transformation, and vice versa.

They took a late nap during the day so they could rise with the moon, which came up just a bit before sunset. Mischief was a ball of energy as usual, but Derek had no idea how literal that would be until he transformed.

Excited, they all stripped naked and headed outside, dropping the barn's latch in place. Victorian culture was forgotten in the face of the full moon and the safety of pack. Only unclaimed omegas had to be locked away. No one would dare try to touch their omegas now that they were mated, even if there _had_ been other wolves around to try. They were safe to go nude together. Derek gave his mate an admiring look before the moon rose, pulling him in for a soft kiss. They had so little time for tenderness and Derek enjoyed it for a bit, but when the moon called they all stepped back to answer. One moment they were howling their joy to the heavens, and the next they were shifting. Derek's world changed color, some sharper some with less tone, shifted to a different position, and then evened out to reveal his home filled with his now furry packmates.

Scott was a big brown wolf, easily as large as Derek's gigantic black form, and happily panting and sniffing the area. His tail kept wagging as he patrolled their territory with a gorgeous gray fox following behind. Kira had two tails, her body long and slim with lighter tones towards her belly. Melissa nearly matched Scott in coloring, but was smaller and less muscular. She took off into the woods on her own, glad to be free of the responsibility of watching omegas during a full moon for once in her life. Derek and Scott would be obsessed with their mates throughout the night.

However, Derek's mate was nowhere to be found. He could smell him, but he seemed to have vanished. Derek whined in concern and then began to seek him out. A turn caught his scent, but not sight of him. Another turn gave him the same. Scott was wuffing in amusement nearby and Derek growled irritably. He was _not_ in the mood for games!

What looked like a sandy colored cat with rabbit ears came bounding out from behind Derek with an excited scream that had Derek's ears back and his eyes wide. On closer inspection Mischief was lupine rather than feline, with long whiskers, shiny black eyes, and ears for days. He was as small as a cat, though, so there went Derek's fantasies of mounting him in their beast form. He'd tear Mischief in half!

It didn't rule out play, which Mischief was eager to partake in. No wonder since he'd been locked in a cage with other miserable omegas through every full moon ever since he'd emerged as an omega. He'd spoken often of his longing to run free under the moon, and now that he was bouncing around beneath it Derek dropped into a play bow and Mischief took off like an arrow.

Derek went after him with a playful howl, charging over logs and under brush as Mischief's huge fluffy tail flashed in the night. He was light colored, creamy and sandy, and so very fluffy. Derek wanted to catch him and rub his face all over Mischief's soft body, but Mischief was _fast!_ His mate ran shrieking through the woods, his black eyes dancing in merriment as he paused to glance back at Derek before flicking his tail, gekkering, and taking off again. He sounded like he was laughing at Derek, but rather than enraging him it only drove him to joyously chase him at top speed. Still, Derek actually _couldn't catch him_... but someone else could.

Derek heard Mischief's screams change from playful to challenging and frightened and put on a harder burst of speed. He broke through the brush into a clearing where his tiny mate was surrounded by a group of confused werewolves, some fully changed while others were in their partial shape. They had likely only cornered him out of curiosity and because he'd been darting about, but Derek wasn't going to allow it even if it was an innocent act of instinct. He came out roaring, alpha reds on display, and plunged through the group to stand over his tiny omega mate.

The strangers backed away, and after some huffing and growling the head alpha stepped forward and transformed to a human shape to communicate better. Derek did the same, standing before her in their natural forms. Mischief didn't change. He crouched between Derek's ankles and screamed in outrage, back bent and tail lashing. Derek nudged him with a foot to get him to shut up, not willing to look down and break eye contact with the other alpha.

“This is neutral territory,” the woman stated, and Derek was surprised to see she wasn't white. She looked Hispanic or Asian.

“Agreed,” Derek stated, then gestured to the ground, “He isn't.”

“He surprised us. He doesn't smell like a... meaning no disrespect, but what _is_ that?”

“We don't know,” Derek shrugged, “Some kind of vulpine form from a different ancestor, but he is mostly werewolf and my _mate.”_

“We smell his claim,” She agreed, tone bored. She wasn't looking to steal from him, and it was well known that only a truly disturbed person would try to break a claim on an omega.

“You're settlers here?”

“We _live_ here,” She stated.

Derek wasn't sure what the distinction was and didn't ask, “Our land isn't far from here.”

“Your land,” She huffed.

Derek frowned, and then it hit him. Her skin was darker than his, though not by much. These were _her lands._ Once. Before his own people had stolen them.

“We aren't going to take any more,” Derek assured her, not sure what else to say, “They were already stolen before we came here.”

“You think I don't know that?” Her voice was harsh but her eyes held no threat.

“We could... trade with you.”

A light laugh through the group and Derek shifted miserably. He wasn't the talker. His mate was the one who could smooth this out, and he was currently between Derek's legs looking like a child's toy.

Sensing his discomfort, Mischief finally shifted back and stood up, arms crossing his body and looking extremely shy without his clothes in front of strangers. He cleared his throat a few times and then stepped forward.

“Hello, my name is Mischief, and this _actual_ s*vage behind me is Derek. He didn't come with manners, just muscles. Sorry about that.”

A light bit of laughter and the woman stepped forward and extended a hand. Mischief grabbed Derek's arm and made him shake hands while the woman laughed at him more. Derek blushed but let him mock him if it broke the awkward stare off.

“Amadahy,” She stated, “Most of our people are gone. The human Cherokee were taken weeping from our lands. We had alphas among us and managed to convince your government to give us some land. They let us stay because we behave like you.”

“Oh, yeah, we're _so_ much more civilized,” Mischief rolled his eyes dramatically, “Just look at my fancy ass clothes.”

More laughter and Derek gave his side a pinch to get him to focus.

“We're over there, about a kilometer,” Mischief gestured towards their home, “Where about is your territory so we don't encroach on it?”

She gestured in the opposite direction, “No one lives between yours and ours so we treat it as hunting grounds. For now.”

“We'll make sure not to hunt you out,” Mischief nodded, “Peaceful and friendly, yeah?”

“Yes,” She nodded.

“Awesome,” Mischief grinned, “If you're in need, we're friendly. We're gonna go now, before he starts trying to compare the sizes of your-”

Derek put his hand over Mischief's mouth and the group laughed again. One of them whistled as he coaxed his mate to leave with him, turning sideways instead of completely around as they moved away from the group. When they were out of sight, though not truly far, Derek transformed again and Mischief slipped into his tiny form. They moved quickly back towards their pack, eager to tell them the news of what they'd seen and be back in their territory.

Mischief related the events and they spent the rest of the night playing tag on their own territory. Scott, Kira, and his mother curled up together in their furry form and fell asleep close to dawn. Derek and Mischief stayed awake a while longer, finding a space alone to lay in human form and hold each other under the light of the moon.

Derek spread Mischief's pretty pale mounds, watched the slick bead up as his desire mounted, and licked his way into his body while Mischief squirmed and cried out for him. His flavor was divine, tasting of spice and delicious flesh, musky and _his._ He reached around to give Mischief's a hand to rut into and let him wildly ride out his pleasure against Derek's palm.

“That's it, I'm close,” Mischief cried out, “Oh gods, Derek, your tongue! Oh, fuck! Yes! Fuck me with it!”

When his cries fell to soft pants Derek climbed up his body, used the slick that had pooled on his thighs and gathered on Derek's hands and mouth on his own member. He used his knees to keep Mischief's thighs tight together and plunged between them, fucking him the only way he could without getting him with child. The scent of his mate's satisfaction was enough to drive Derek to swell, and Mischief flexed his lean muscles to squeeze his knot.

“Yes,” Derek gasped out, mouthing at his mating gland at the back of his neck where his scent was strong, “That's it. That's it. A little longer.”

“Fuck, Derek, come already. Drench me in it!” Mischief pleaded.

Derek shook his way through his release, pleasure blinding him as his body rocked through multiple orgasms with Mischief's thighs flexing around his knot. He turned Mischief's head to kiss his lips gently, tongue sliding against his lovingly as he held his most treasured possession safely in his arms.


	14. Chapter 14

It was late the next day by the time Derek and Scott had gathered enough of the older cabin to start building. They had looted the hardware from the barn and cabin, and found a few vegetables growing wild which they had left there. They would harvest them as needed since pulling up unready plants was a waste. At the very least they'd get a source of seeds if the overgrown field didn't supply them with food. Perhaps Mischief would like to weed it and give it a chance to thrive between cultivating their own. They could hardly spend time on land that didn't belong to them, but it might be worth it to get a bit of food for this year rather than scrounging until their fields had yield.

Scott alternated between helping Derek and helping Mischief and Melissa. Kira maintained her status as herder and guardian of the homestead. Scott had worked the fields and been a builder, while Mischief had cared for animals and the home, but Mischief was without a proper home and Scott had been helping build while the field had been laid. They were all switching up and learning each other's tasks except for Kira, which made Derek frustrated beyond belief. Yet no one else seemed bothered by her lack of assistance. When Mischief started making cheese from their goat's milk Kira stood to watch, but never stepped forward to take part. He hoped that it meant that she was learning, as Derek was as the other least educated in survival among them.

It took over a week to put the cabin back together on their own platform, cutting and hewing new logs as needed and building their fireplace. Scott or Mischief helped when he needed another set of hands, but once the supplies were present Derek did it mostly alone to free up the rest of them. It was more puzzle than skill since things had been laid out for him in the other cabin. Scott ended up focusing almost solely on building a new fireplace since the one at the previous place had been very small and partially collapsed.

The cabin logs they'd harvested were hewn rather than just interlocking logs, so there wasn't as much to daub as if it had been the round logs that Derek had been planning to use to get them a quicker shelter. They had done their best to apply the same technique after seeing it was superior, and having most of it made already meant they worked very fast.

They had built a much larger loft, which was nearly a second story but open enough to allow the fireplace below to heat it. This was to give the two families space as needed since they planned to grow quite a bit. Mischief had pointed out that if they needed to they could divide it with some hanging skins or a thin wall for added privacy. The first floor was one large room, as was typical for a frontier cabin. The fireplace was in the middle of the far wall across from the door, with space to the right and in front for living and a kitchen area to the left. Windows throughout the both spaces opened by propping up a hatch, which would fall if something big enough to be a threat tried to climb through. Derek had heard big cats yowling in the woods, so he added a few bars to the ones on the first floor just in case. Since the area was so hot and humid Derek had not spared on windows, but made sure the covers were thick so that they could keep them well sealed in the winter in case it was as brutal as the summer.

The original platform had become their porch and part of the floor in the house, the trap door just inside and to the left of their door. It would be far enough from the fireplace to avoid it becoming heated in the winter, and the porch cover would keep it cool in the summer.

Just shy of the third week Derek announced they just had to weather proof the house, and everyone abandoned all other tasks to swarm the house. Even Kira got herself muddy. Everyone was eager to move out of the barn and into their actual home. Once the house was stuffed full of clay, moss, and sticks to keep it from leaking Mischief and Kira went _insane._ At least, that was what it looked like to Scott and Derek, who had no nesting instincts to speak of. Melissa just smiled and shook her head in amusement, occasionally insisting they eat or drink water so they didn't die while frantically setting up their house.

They swept the entire area with a broom Mischief had made days ago, and began laying thrushes along the floor by the doorway to keep the mud they tracked in from spreading through the house. They were quickly tearing open crates and scattering the contents of chests around the rooms. Derek watched a moment as they babbled about filling the loft with hay for bedding, then debated the downstairs room, and then began to argue about whether or not they should lay down skins on the floor for warmth during winter. Mischief let out a shriek about berries for paint and how his people decorated the borders and ceilings with flowers and they were both off scattering to the wind for supplies.

Derek left them to put dishes away and make the place feel like a home. Scott was stacking firewood by the fireplace and talking about washing up in the creek and taking a break for the first time in weeks. Unfortunately, Derek had a final task to complete. He slowly dragged logs into the house and laid them out in the corner of the main room. A pack bed could double as a sitting area in a place like theirs, so he made sure it was near the fireplace as he began to build.

“I thought we'd sleep in the loft?” Scott asked in surprise as he saw Derek working.

“Once kids are born,” Derek agreed.

Mischief continued when he didn't elaborate, “No reason to heat a room we don't need for now. I plan to cover the opening with furs and let it be cold up there in the winter. When we have weened kids old enough to sleep alone we'll sleep upstairs where we'll have privacy to make more. In the mean time, this will be our pack bed _and_ our bed.”

“That won't be long,” Kira gave him a confused look from where she was sorting out things in a trunk, “Unless you're having trouble conceiving?”

Mischief went very still and the stench of sorrow hit Derek so hard he snorted and stood up to see what had happened. Mischief's expression was carefully schooled as he continued to organize the contents of a crate of his belongings. He placed a carving on a shelf in the kitchen and avoided Derek's eyes.

“I'm sorry, was that... I didn't mean to upset you,” Kira stated, eyes worried, “I'm sure you'll be with child soon, Mischief. You're an omega. It's guaranteed.”

“We're waiting until it's safe,” Derek stated, frowning, “Aren't you and Scott waiting? _Tell me_ you aren't pregnant.”

“Probably,” Kira stood up and frowned right back, “You can't tell me you two haven't mated. How did you claim him _without_ mating him?”

“With skins,” Mischief spoke softly, “We ran out though, so we've just been pleasuring each other carefully.”

Derek scowled, “This is a problem. If you conceived when Scott mated you the first time you'll be heavy when winter is about to end, _before_ spring, right when there's nothing left to forage or hunt and our stores will be depleted.”

Now it was Kira who was avoiding Derek's eyes. Derek had been stagnant and out of a pack for years, so instead of directing his comments to _Mischief,_ who he didn't want to argue with, he was lashing out at Kira who he saw as a dead weight in their pack and now a threat to their survival. Mischief was trying to wave him to silence, but Derek was angry at Mischief for being upset at Derek for protecting him from burying a child or dying in childbirth on the frontier. So once his hands _had_ caught Derek's eyes he turned on him in a temper.

“I _came to this country_ just to mate with you. Just to have cubs and start a pack with you. Did you _forget_ that?”

“No, I'm sorry,” Mischief babbled, “My mistake, alpha, really. Whenever you think it's time, it will be fine. Of course it will.”

Mischief deferring to him and submitting should have been an even bigger red flag than his hands waving around, but Derek was tired, sore, feeling the pressure or surviving in the wilderness after seeing those who had not, and hadn't stopped to eat. Add to that the fact that he barely ever spoke, and once he _did_ start talking it was usually because the dam broke and the flood was relentless and destructive.

“Any alpha who gets an omega pregnant before heading into the _wilderness_ is an idiot,” Derek declared, raising his voice to make sure Scott heard him outside, “And should start digging a big grave and a tiny one before the frost hits.”

Derek's nose was broken. That was his first realization. The crunch he'd heard was _definitely_ his nose breaking- not a new sensation, but a surprising one given the context. How it had happened was a mystery at first because he was in a room full of omegas, he hadn't seen anyone move towards him, and both Kira and Mischief had been across the room while Derek had been standing beside the bed frame he was making. Then Derek was on the ground with a broken nose while Kira stood over him, tears in her eyes, electric crackling in the air, and breath fast.

“You're a cold, unfeeling, bitter man Derek Hale!” She shouted at him, “I wish you'd stayed in London with your whores and your hatred, turned into the gamma you act like, and been _torn apart by hunters!”_

Derek picked himself up in time to see her fleeing out the front door in tears. He expected Mischief to follow her, but Scott had already intercepted her outside so Mischief stayed with Derek. He headed over while shaking his head. Derek hung his head as Mischief studied him for a moment and then helped him straighten his nose with a bit of a vindictive smirk when Derek yelped at the pain.

  
“That was profoundly stupid,” Mischief told him.

“It's not my fault all she knows how to do is breed, clean, and stare at her surroundings,” Derek grumbled, not done being surly.

Kira made a furious sound outside, but didn't come storming back in to give him another well-deserved punch. Mischief might though, given the look of outrage on his face at that comment. Mischief's hands went to his hips and he glared Derek down until he actually felt as contrite as he looked.

“Is that really what you think of her?” Mischief scowled at him, all sign of deference gone now that Derek had burned himself out, “What you first said was cruel but true, but that? That is _false._ Why would you think that of Kira?”

“She doesn't gather, or hunt, and we had to teach her how to watch the animals,” Derek argued weakly, trying to figure out why Mischief- intelligent, brutally honest, quick to act, Mischief- wasn't agreeing with him.

“No, we had to _ask_ her to include watching the animals in her guardian duties because she'd only thought to watch _us_ ,” Mischief told him, “She had a different upbringing than we did. She was meant to go to a rich home, to watch over other omegas and her children, but her parents let her be with Scott because they fell in love. Do you know why her parents taught her to be a warrior _and_ a housespouse?”

“Mm?” Derek managed, fairly certain his throat had closed up from shame.

“Because rich alphas have a nasty habit of beating their omegas to _death_ , knowing full well that they're easily replaceable since they have _money_. We are _nothing_ to them, but a rich alpha is still a better chance to have cubs that survive in this world, even if they treat us like a bear skin rug instead of a person.”

Derek's mouth went dry and he shook his head, unable to reconcile that thought with the image of his parents. Mischief nodded in argument and gave Derek's hands a squeeze.

“Kira wants to help, but we've been so busy that we haven't shown her how. She's smart. She's funny. She has great stories that she wants to share with us to keep us entertained, but so far I'm the only one talking to her because you two have been busy working and keep forgetting we're _family_ out here. You can talk to the other omega! She's not a shallow pool, Derek. She's a deep ocean. You have to let her be part of our pack because she will fill it with _life.”_

“I'm not stopping her!” Derek argued.

“Yes,” Mischief insisted, “You are, and it _will_ kill her cubs, much faster than a bad winter will. I'm glad that you aren't mating me yet, but you need to learn to communicate _before_ you're angry, or let me speak for you! You could have told Scott your thoughts before he claimed Kira. He's not smart like we are. Now you have to go use your words to make this right. Please. Talk to her. And talk to me more, too. I was looking forward to conversations with you; I never expected to miss your letters when I have you sitting right in front of me. There's more to providing for an omega than building and hunting. We need love, pack, and your time.”

Derek nodded miserably, “I'll do better.”

“Start with Kira? Then Scott?”

“I will,” Derek nodded.

Derek abandoned his project and stepped outside to see Scott fuming as he held a weeping Kira in his arms, but he didn't give Derek a second punch like he'd thought he would. They both had to have heard his conversation with Mischief, so Scott was staring at him in expectation while Kira refused to look at him.

“I'm not some dumb trophy omega,” She told him, wiping at her eyes with her back to him, “I bonded to Scott because I didn't want that life. I'm strong. I can survive, I can pull my own weight if you'll just show me how, and I won't let my cubs die.”

“Neither will I,” Derek promised her softly, “We still have some of the stores we brought. We'll save them for the hard times now that we're established here. We'll keep scavenging and hunting for as long as we possibly can. The rest of us will eat less.”

Kira turned finally, eyes puffy but head raised proudly, “I'm waiting.”

Derek had never known alphas to apologize to omegas, but Mischeif had shown him that they were nothing he had ever thought of them before. He didn't hesitate to say the words this time, heartfelt and firm, but Kira didn't budge. Her eyes were almost a challenge as she tilted her head back. Derek was confused at first, but then it clicked. Mischief was right. He had yet to mark her as pack- hadn't even touched her _casually_. That was quite the feat since they had been sharing a sleeping area. Derek stepped forward, put an arm around her shoulders, and leaned in to rub his scruff along the side of her head and down her neck, avoiding her mating gland since that was Scott's place on her body.

“I'm sorry,” He whispered into her ear once more, chest tight with regret and guilt.

“Do better,” She replied, and though he had never met her mother he definitely recognized her tone in Kira at that moment.

“I will. Thank you for giving me another chance.”

Derek stepped back and turned away, but Scott cleared his throat loudly. Derek turned back with a frown.

“I'm sorry for how I said it,” Derek told him, “And I never should have said what I did to Kira, or assumed the worst of her, but you're _still_ an idiot.”

Scott pouted but didn't argue and Derek returned to the cabin to finish the bed. It was just after noon and he wanted a proper bed to sleep in. Mischief and Kira left to gather food, Kira talking about guarding him while Mischief told her she was going to _help_ and he was going to teach her how. They had time now.

“I'm helping! I want to help! I just don't know the difference between poison ivy and parsley.”

“Well,” Mischief stated, “If you find parsley, I'll kiss you more than Scott does. In the mean time, let's talk poisons!”

Their voices faded into the distance and Derek continued to work while Scott let out the animals who had been fairly cooped up while they'd all been working. Mischief had built a large pen for the goat around the main entrance after removing the wagon from the barn. He had put in a chicken door at one side of the barn and moved Derek's carefully woven chicken run to that area; their chicks were going to survive, damn it. And with any luck they'd have a good ratio between rooster and hen since Bonnie was too old to lay anymore. In time they would need to breed Reggie, but that would require them getting their hands on a male goat or finding one in the wild, which Derek wasn't sure could happen. Still, they didn't like being confined for so long to _just_ their runs and the barn. They needed to forage in other areas and stretch their legs.

Mischief walked in just as Derek put the final thick stick down on the bed to make the bottom. It was rough wood, birch with the bark on rather than the fine, resin covered one Mischief's parents had owned or the walnut stained beauty that Derek had grown up in. It had naturally twisted logs at the top and bottom for the head and foot, and smelled of moss despite him choosing logs further up the tree to avoid them molding.

“It's ugly,” Derek decided.

“It's beautiful.” Mischief argued.

“I don't even have a proper mattress. Not enough furs, either.”

“We'll make them,” Mischief promised him, “Between us we brought far more blankets than we need, and we can use them to make a mattress. We'll redo it in furs before winter. We'll stuff it with grasses and leaves for now like we did in the barn. It will smell nice. I cured the hides that we had already, and I can stitch them together to start us off. Or we could use them for a rug like Kira wants to do.”

Derek groaned, “Whatever you decide. I need a break. And food. Badly.”

“Rest a bit. This can wait. I'm going to make dinner. We've been working so hard we're barely living!” Mischief pressed a kiss to his cheek and headed outside.

Derek joined him and was surprised to see the sun was about to set. His eyes had adjusted to the inside of their cabin, windows open for light and air in the humid heat. After living almost exclusively outdoors for so long the cabin felt timeless and secure. He was looking forward to sleeping in there.

“Oh my glory! I love having another omega around!” Mischief gestured to Kira, “She cooked! I can work on the mattress while you all eat!”

“Aren't you going to eat?” Derek asked.

“Can't! Too excited!”

Kira laughed as he took off, “Don't worry, he was munching while we were foraging. He isn't starving himself or anything.”

Mischief ran past with armfuls of the bedding they'd been sharing for the last few nights. Melissa joined him after shouting about herbs to keep pests out. Derek was surprised the goat hadn't eaten it all out of boredom. Scott and Derek were exhausted, having been doing hard labor for weeks in a desperate attempt to get a real home going. They kept falling asleep through a dinner of rabbit, scavenged root vegetables, and some goat cheese that Mischief had made now that he had a cellar to keep it cool. It was late for so heavy a meal, but no one had breaked for supper at noon like they usually did so their usually light dinner before bed became a full meal.

Kira had joined Mischief and Melissa at some point, leaving Derek and Scott to clean up the outdoor area. The sun was well down by the time they herded the cranky animals back into their barn, locked them up for the night, and joined Mischief and Kira inside. Kira and Mischief had put layers of grass, moss, mint leaves, and lemongrass across their bedframe, weaving up the sides to avoid them simply spilling out. Two of their biggest blankets had been stitched together and laid across the huge pack bed, easily the size of two gigantic beds, in order to complete the mattress. Their bed was thick and comfortable when Derek placed a hand down on it in wonder.

“Oh, no you don't,” Mischief scowled, “We're not living in a barn anymore! Go wash up before bed!”

Scott and Derek both groaned as they were herded back out of the house. They stripped, splashed in the creek, and brought their honestly _filthy_ clothes back in to place them in the wash basin for their omegas to wash the next day. Mischief and Kira had stripped as well, everyone having decided on their own that tomorrow was a wash day. Daubing a house would do that.

“I wanted a fire,” Scott was muttering to Kira.

“It's too hot in here!” She argued back.

“Here,” Mischief distracted Derek who was staring at the bed in longing, “Clean your teeth and then bed.”

Derek accepted the powder and the stick he'd worn into a comfortable shape and went to where Scott was brushing up as well. He poured the water over his stick sprinkled powder on it, and began to scrub the filth from inside his mouth as well. He nearly fell asleep brushing up, but managed to pull himself to bed after a quick rinse into their smaller basin. Kira was talking to Mischief about making more soap as they climbed into bed, but they all dropped to silence as the alphas collapsed beside them. Derek snuggled into Mischief's side, wrapping himself around his omega who was tucked against Scott's back. Scott was snuggling into Kira lovingly, sighing happily as he buried his face in her breasts. Melissa climbed in behind Kira, lovingly snuggling into her daughter in law who she loved like her own.

“I wish _I_ had some of those,” Mischief poked at his own chest.

“Stop,” Derek scolded, “Like you this way.”

Derek fell asleep before Mischief could answer.


	15. Chapter 15

The summer droned on, mostly spent broadening their search of the surrounding area to find more supplies. They found another abandoned homestead, but it had already been raided. Nearby was the party that had looted it, and they had a nice chat about potential trade and support throughout the coming years. Derek showed them where they were on a map, figuring it was safe enough since he already knew where they were. He told Kira to be on the alert when he got back just in case.

Furs were piling up. Derek was a great hunter while Scott was a labor worker at heart, so between them both they had a pile of furs to insulate their home and lay over their bed as needed and now a shed, proper chicken coop and run, and a sun shelter over the wash area. Scott had taught Kira some building techniques, so together they built a covered shed for the firewood off of their porch, a loft for the barn to store food for the animals during winter, and began to dig a well. Mischief kept smoking the meat that Derek brought home, foraging with Melissa or Kira to protect him, and preserving whatever they didn't eat as much as he could. He found some rotten berries and planted them in the hopes of getting more berry bushes on their land in the future.

In late summer Kira began to show her pregnancy and the moment was bittersweet. Mischief helped her count the months to her delivery. She'd be at the height of her calorie needs during the hardest months of winter, but she'd be delivering in spring when foraging was possible.

When fall hit Scott focused on the harvest with Kira, who had become more proficient as time went on, so that Mischief and Derek could winterize the barn and prepare to keep the animals alive during the winter. Since they had so few it was suggested that they stay in the cabin with them, but Derek wasn't prepared to live that life. He was outvoted, but only if it got too cold.

Their first harvest was wildly celebrated, not only because they got fresh food that wasn't foraged, but because it meant they were succeeding. Mischief built up a bonfire and they spent the night singing, dancing, making out, and eating fresh foods. Not everything had thrived, but they had enough to eat fresh for a bit and started preserving the rest right away. Mischief dried some, pickled others, and painstakingly collected seeds and replanted split roots for the next year. He taught Kira as he went along.

Derek joined Mischief in the barn during their first _tolerable_ day, sighing at the coolness of the barn as he walked in.

“It's hard to believe that we're winterizing this barn when it's so damn hot,” Derek told him.

Mischief smiled down from the loft where he'd been storing dried grasses, nuts, berries, and seeds from wild plants. He even had a pile of gravel on the ground for the chickens.

“Winter will hit us fast,” Mischief told him, “At least it did in Boston. It feels like it should be here by now.”

“It does,” Derek nodded.

They were half into October and still having some hot days. They had yet to start a fire inside their house, still using the outdoor fire pit and smoker. Mischief had started to wear less and less clothes since there were so few people to watch them. The way that omegas covered from head to toe had always been the norm for Derek, but seeing Mischief barefoot, skirts tied up to his hips so his knees showed, half his underskirts abandoned, and arms bare was overwhelming.

Derek was suddenly hit with a painful urge to bury himself inside of Mischief, something he hadn't done since they'd run out of skins during their journey to their homestead. They touched, and often, and Mischief had learned how to pleasure him in ways that would put the harlots in London to shame, but it wasn't the same as actually _fucking him._ Derek wanted to rip his barely-there clothes off and have him against the wall of the barn. He had him pushed against it before he registered his thoughts.

Mischief had his bloomers off, his skirts hiked up, and Derek's length inside of him in seconds. Mischief's soft pants and cries of longing and need were driving him insane. He wanted to knot him. He wanted to fill him up and see him round like Kira was getting. He bit along Mischief's shoulders and moaned as the omega clawed his back and _begged_ for it.

“Please, Derek, please! I need! Oh, please, I need you! Please! Fill me!” Mischief panted, gripping him with his strong legs.

“Mischief, fuck, I need-” Derek groaned.

The blood was roaring in Derek's ears, his mind completely gone on rutting Mischief. He knew he had to pull out, had to stop himself before he kept going. They already had one pregnant omega, they _couldn't_ have another.

“Not yet, not yet,” Derek panted, pulling himself back as his knot began to swell. Mischief groaned in frustration as Derek spilled onto the barn wall behind him as he pulled free. Mischief didn't let him down though. He reached down and squeezed Derek's knot and brought him through the waves of his pleasure. Derek's legs felt weak after, but he wouldn't deny Mischief his enjoyment. He lowered his mate down and dropped to his knees, still gasping as he pulled Mischief's skirts over his head.

“Is that you growling?” Mischief asked.

Derek paused. The rushing in his ears had gone down when he'd dropped those skirts over his head, but that didn't make sense. That meant the sound wasn't blood pounding in his ears, it was coming from _outside!_

“Mischief! Derek!” Scott's voice called, the fear in it bringing Derek to his feet.

“A mountain lion?!” Mischief asked.

“Bigger,” Derek realized, remembering the neighboring barn that had looked as if it had been tossed about like a toy.

He grabbed Mischief's hand and they ran for the house. Outside the barn rain poured in every direction, even up into their noses from below, and Scott was barely able to stand as the wind tried it's best to shove him down off of the porch. In the distance a cloud had taken a shape like a whip and was descending towards the earth while roaring out it's fury at the world it was about to ravage. Derek froze and stared at it in wonder and horror. He'd never seen or heard of such a thing and for a moment he wondered if this was why the humans worshiped a god. Surely this was something supernatural and it came from what they called _the heavens._

“TORNADO!” Mischief screamed and slapped him soundly to get him moving.

Derek shoved him towards the cabin, figuring the heavy logs would be safer than the lighter made barn, but Mischief had the same thought in a different order. His mate was trying to go _back to the barn_.

“THE ANIMALS!” Mischief shouted.

“YOUR LIFE!” Derek argued, then threw him over his shoulder when he kept trying to go back.

“THE ANIMALS ARE OUR LIVES!”

''I'LL CATCH YOU A HERD OF DEER! JUST GET INSIDE!”

Scott had to fight the door to get it open with the wind blowing straight across their porch, but they were finally inside and huddling together in fear as the sky screamed outside their walls. Kira had secured the windows, and now latched the door behind them as they collapsed to the ground and clung to each other. Derek was trying to keep Mischief from escaping out the door again to go to the animals while he shouted and swore about their safety being tied to the pack's survival. Melissa slapped _him_ this time, and he quieted down under her maternal glare. Derek let out a slightly hysterical giggle at the scene as it felt like it was from a play.

“The cellar,” Mischief insisted, now that he'd accepted the animals might not make it, “It's the safest place.”

They all slipped down into the dark, afraid to bring a lantern in case something fell on it and started a fire. They huddled there, wrapped around each other and listening to the soft soothing sounds the alphas made to comfort themselves and their pack. The wind died down faster than it started up and the pack sat there listening to the rain dwindle and then eventually stop all together. Derek released Mischief and he took off toward the door, unlatched it, threw it open, and fled out to the barn while screaming for Reggie and Bonnie. Derek followed at a sedate pace, only realizing as he left the building that he didn't have his bottoms on.

The barn was still standing, the animals had wisely taken cover inside, and Reggie was bleating in distress even as Mischief comforted her and counted the chicks. The barn was filthy since a latch had broken and a door blown open, letting all matter of detritus inside. Derek found his pants and stood there staring at Mischief as he fussed over the animals. He wasn't quite done. It had been a while since he'd had any kind of satisfying sex with Mischief and if anything the scare made him want to hold Mischief more. He wanted to satisfy his mate, and he wanted to come at least once more. His knot was still engaged, his cock hard and aching as he stood half dressed in their barn.

“Mischief,” Derek spoke up softly.

“I know, I know, you want to keep me safe, but I want to keep the _animals_ safe! It's what I've done all my life! I'm the omega in the barn, you know?”

“Not that,” Derek stated.

Mischief looked up and Derek gestured to his erection. Mischief's eyes bugged out and he looked up at Derek's face in shock, “Um... really?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” Mischief stood up, looking awkward and uncomfortable, “I guess... how do you want me?”

Derek frowned. Their sex life was usually spontaneous. Mischief would smile a bit and he'd leap at him, or Derek would flex and Mischief would croon and start lifting his skirts provocatively. Sometimes in the morning he'd wake up hard and Mischief would slide back and they'd have lazy intercrural sex and spill into a cloth. However, he hadn't actually _entered_ his mate in months. He needed to be inside of Mischief, even if he couldn't properly knot him.

“The bed?” Derek suggested, “We're soaked. Let's get naked, get into our nice bed, and enjoy each other.”

“Oh,” Mischief looked pleasantly surprised, cheeks flushing and eyes dropping down as if shy, “I thought... like, I thought you just wanted me to bend over or something. Service style. That's actually really sweet.”

“Never like that. Come on,” Derek put out his hand, “Let me cherish you.”

They went back to the house and Derek asked Scott to give them some privacy. It was not often had, even during sex. Scott, Melissa, and Kira left them on their own and Derek stripped Mischief down slowly, lovingly caressing each inch of chilled exposed flesh. Mischief shivered as Derek gently dried his hair and then led him to the bed to wrap him up in their warm blankets. He kept a spilling cloth close so he could avoid ruining their bed with his leavings. He knew part of it was winter drawing closer. Come December Mischief would go into heat and breeding him wouldn't be avoidable, but for now he was in control enough to slide into Mischief and find an angle that hit his prostate so his mate could scream his bliss to the rafters of their home.

Mischief babbled during sex. He shouted Derek's name, he praised his body descriptively, he complimented whatever he saw around him whether it was their home or some meadow flowers by his face in the ground. Derek loved the sound of his voice and encouraged it further by wringing sweet sounds from him. He teased his cock, squeezed his balls, and tapped his taint until Mischief was limp with pleasure. Then he pulled free and squeezed his knot until stars lit up behind his eyes. The cloth took a beating that night, and Mischief washed it the next morning with a smirk on his face while Kira and Melissa teased him for making his alpha mad with lust but not letting him come inside him. Derek didn't correct them. They knew the score, let them tease.


	16. Chapter 16

Scott started preparing the soil in the areas that were ready to be replanted or needed to rest until the spring. Their roles had switched back to the ones they'd had on the farm, with Mischief and Melissa spending a majority of time in the barn, washing by the creek, and in the cabin. Kira was floating between them all, helping wherever needed with ease and a complete lack of concern as to what gender roles she was expected to follow. That left Derek time to fix up small things here and there, further waterproof their roof and the barn, and build a reinforcing wall out of stone instead of wood for the animals. One of the things that Derek built with Kira were rain barrels. Lots of rain barrels. They had a heavy shower every few days so Derek funneled it off of their roof and the barn's and into barrels to save in case of dry times. They built a trough for the animals in the barn and a food prep counter in the kitchen for Mischief.

Once she had learned a bit about building Kira began to build something alone. A crib. Her first attempt was a bit awful, but she just took it apart and tried again after Derek coached her a bit. Once she had one decent crib she built a second. Then she and Mischief made dye and carved and painted decorations into the wood with a slow tenderness that made Derek look away. He had seen so much death, buried so many children in his family. The walls of their very cabin had seen the deaths of some already. He couldn't bare to see them preparing for life that was not guaranteed.

Melissa was thrilled, of course, and soon she was cooing over the clothes that Mischief had washed from the other cabin. They found the smallest articles and laid them out, talking about how cute their cubs would be and what would keep them warmest until the weather heated up.

“The fall has been so mild, if the spring is this warm they'll be going naked a month after birth!” Kira laughed.

Melissa cackled, “Mischief's babies will never wear a stitch!”

“Clothing is _wildly_ overrated outside of winter,” Mischief stated firmly.

The days grew shorter and the animals less plentiful. The first time Mischief lit the fire indoors Derek felt a sense of dread in his heart. Mischief, however, saw a chance to make stew. The flour they had packed was made into fresh cakes as he began to prepare for winter, and hard tack- or Johnny cakes- would last for months. He was in a preparation frenzy, and Kira was eagerly latching onto his lessons while Melissa talked to Derek about how to survive a winter in the frontier. He was deeply grateful for her comforting lessons. Mischief's talk was all frenetic and wild, making him anxious and amplifying his fears. Melissa spoke calmly of conserving energy, how big stores needed to be, ways to keep warm, food alternatives for babies that didn't get enough milk, and gave him the hope he needed to continue. While the omegas vibrated around the room in a mad dash to be settled before Mischief's winter heat hit, Derek began to catalog their stores and layer the floors of the cellar with dirt over the boards. They had gone from too moist to too dry, and Melissa insisted the solution was to have hard packed dirt available. Their flooring was necessary in a wet area, but they still needed _some_ natural solutions. Derek ended up tearing down one of the wooden walls, facing away from the creek, to allow the hard packed dirt behind it to provide the room with the natural moisture it needed.

Some of Mischief's bread went to luring in ducks from the creek and before Derek knew what was happening they had an entire flock annoying Reggie in the barn. They preferred the loft so the window up there was left open for them to enter and leave. For now.

Derek was glad they had put the barn and cabin so close together, even if the smell of dung was annoying in the height of summer. The smaller door was on the side nearest the cabin, just a short trot from their porch. So if they didn't get 20 feet of snow they'd be able to visit it daily during winter. If it went badly they'd have to hope the animals survived on their stores. Derek had bailed grasses together, bundling them up to keep for the winter, all kept above in the loft beneath the canvas from the wagon so they didn't dirty it. Mischief had jars of dried berries and stores of scavenged wheat and grass seeds. Until the first snow they would keep them away from the stores and let them forage outside for as long as possible. When the first flake fell they would shovel ¾ down to the animals and hope they could keep them alive.

With his fears soothed as much as possible, Derek faced the first few snowflakes with calm as he sipped weak tea on the porch of his home. Mischief slipped out, still stubbornly barefoot, and studied it with him. Derek offered him a sip but he had his own mug of coffee from their stores.

“Melissa tells me that in the spring some traders are supposed to come through here bringing things we can't grow like coffee,” Derek gestured towards his mug, “And they trade it for furs and such. Apparently they like chickens, too.”

“They aren't getting ours,” Mischief frowned, “We're too new to trade. When I run out of coffee I'll live without coffee. I'll hate it, but I'll do it.”

“We might have enough furs,” Derek pointed out.

Mischief's eyes grew intense, “We're supposed to send them to my parents. So they can buy themselves out sooner.”

“We can do that, too,” Derek pressed a kiss to his forehead, “I just want you to have nice things, Mischief.”

“Kira is getting bigger and bigger every day,” Mischief said softly, “I think her baby is a Temple baby. They'll be born sooner than we had expected.”

“So you're worried about supplies then? By spring-”

“Two weeks, Derek.”

“Hm?”

Mischief's eyes bled to black as he tilted his head to peer at Derek with enough intensity to make the man shudder, “Two weeks. Mating season is in two weeks, and then your knot is _mine._ Your seed is the only nice thing I need from you. You will not keep it from me this time.”

Mischief turned around and went back into the house, taking his coffee and the scent of lust with him. Derek followed, breathing hard and ready to rip what little he wore off of his body and take him right there against his food prep counter.

“Mischief, you make me _insane,”_ Derek growled, grasping his arm and spinning him around.

Mischief _growled._ His teeth flashed, eyes still black, and the omega forced him back with his obvious refusal.

“It's not my time yet!”

Derek stood there, in the middle of the room, stunned into silence as Mischief turned back to the counter and kept chopping vegetables. When he finished he tossed them into his dutch oven, placed it on it's stand over the fire, turned the coals, and left to tend to the animals. Kira and Melissa went with him, Kira's hand over her belly as she moved along with swaying hips. Scott drooled after her but shook his head in sorrow.

“It's instinct, Derek,” Scott told him, “They won't willingly put out for the next couple of weeks. They want us ready to go. Even Kira, who won't even _go_ on heat!”

“I'm going to die of blue balls instead of blue toes,” Derek realized in horror.

“That man is after your nut,” Scott stood up and clapped Derek on the shoulder, “He's going to drain you like those vegetables he keeps drying out.”

“Yeah, but what a way to go,” Derek whimpered.


	17. Chapter 17

Mischief and Kira slept in each other's arms for the next two weeks, Melissa between them and the two alphas who grumbled about their lack of soft omega bodies. It was the norm for the omegas to separate themselves, usually going to the separate quarters the unmated omegas used during full moons or to the nurseries, but the close quarters and a lack of said area meant they were simply using Melissa like a barrier. Mischief was constantly growling at Derek and flashing black eyes at him. He spent as much time as he could with the animals, and then one day he called for Melissa to help him and they packed the bottom loft with food, lit the heater, filled the inside water trough, and closed the top hatch to keep the ducks in.

“Visit them daily,” Mischief told Melissa, “Replenish the water, turn the food until it's bad and then use it as rushes, bring down fresh, keep the fire going at night until it gets too cold. If the ducks can't handle being confined, let them go before letting them distress the other animals.”

“Everything will be fine,” Melissa assured him.

Derek knew what was happening, even if he'd never personally witnessed it. Scott had been giving him the low-down on heats, something his parents should have taught him had they been around after he claimed an omega. Mischief was telling Melissa things she already knew, things she had taught _him,_ out of an instinctive need to make sure things were okay while he was indisposed. Omegas leaned on betas to keep the household running while they were in heat. Mischief was ready. Sometime in the next 24 hours Mischief would go sex crazy and Derek would be unable to resist him. Even had a skin been available he'd never even want to put it on, because the need wouldn't just be for sex; it would be to fill Mischief up with cubs. His heat would last anywhere between two hours to a day, and then they'd be clingy and sexually charged for up to two months. The first day was the most fertile, the most irresistible, and most alphas wore skins after those to avoid an early winter baby. Derek didn't have any. He'd have to hope Mischief fell pregnant on the first day.

That night when Mischief climbed into bed he was eerily silent, and he didn't curl up with Kira and Melissa. He got into the bed and actually _shoved_ Derek to the far side, eyes wide and unfixed. Derek was achingly hard and hadn't bothered with clothes any more than Mischief had. Scott and Kira ended up fooling around together, the scent of Scott's seed hidden inside her body as he was free to knot her. Derek wanted that. Needed it. Was tired of holding back when Mischief smelled ripe and ready to breed.

Derek reached for him, but Mischief shoved his hand away with a low growl. Derek waited, wanting and aching for half the night. Sometime close to morning Mischief woke up with a pained cry, back arching in the bed as he writhed and clawed at the bedding.

“Mischief?” Derek sat up and reached for him, “It's okay baby, just a nightmare.”

The scent hit him when Mischief pushed the blankets down and he went nonverbal and needy instantly. He pounced on Mischief, all traces of the gentle, giving lover gone. Mischief growled and gripped his ass, pulling him in even as Derek's knot expanded too fast to get it inside of him before it swelled. Derek thrust hard enough to push past his guardian muscles without hesitation, and Mischief didn't even grunt in pain. He likely didn't feel it. Derek was inside of him and coming in less than a minute, while Mischief rolled his hips and milked Derek's knot for all it was worth. Derek's eyes rolled in his head and Mischief's cock spurted across Derek's body as he came untouched in record time.

Derek didn't leave Mischief's greedy body until late morning, and then it was to run to the outhouse with him and back. Mischief was himself again, giggling and teasing Derek for being a horny alpha even though he'd been ravenous for him a few minutes ago. They chipped some water off the creek, scooped a bucketful, and returned to the cabin to boil some, wash up, and return to the bed.

For the next week they fucked several times a day, leaving little time for much else. Melissa as the beta tended to them, and since Kira had no heat the other pair were left to help with the homestead as well. The animals were fine, of course, and when Mischief and Derek's sex drive slowed down to once a day they were able to help once more. After a few weeks they were back to normal and their lives resumed with only minimal teasing from their packmates.


	18. Chapter 18

Within days a heavy snow hit their little homestead and Derek's worries resumed. For a day they couldn't make it to the animals, but on the second day they entered to re-light the clay oven, rotate food and water, and comfort the ducks who weren't used to being confined. They had all been huddled together for warmth, the chicks now chickens and two roosters. Their goat was past needing to milk and Mischief had worried she would dry up. They milked her, rubbed oil into her sore udders, and Mischief spent some time comforting her.

“Next time we smell snow I'm staying in the barn,” Mischief stated, “I can't believe I let heat distract me.”

“That's insane,” Derek argued.

“That's _normal._ I mean, fair, normally a beta would do it, but Melissa's our only beta and she's needed in the cabin with Kira. I'm the animal person. I need to be out here with my animals.”

“You could die!” Derek argued.

“ _They_ could die. They're in here without protection because _we_ put them here. They can't get water, can't find shelter that isn't open and cold, can't light the fire, can't fly away, can't get food for themselves. We have a responsibility to care for them.”

“You're _pregnant!”_ Derek insisted.

“Just,” Mischief shrugged, “It's not draining me yet, and they need me. Derek, _this_ is my role here. I didn't coddle you when you were determined to build despite needing a break. Don't coddle me now. Survival, Derek. It's _our_ survival, our cubs as well, and it depends on us keeping these animals alive.”

“Okay,” Derek nodded with a slow breath, “At least let me stay with you?”

“No offense,” Mischief snorted, “But you'll just eat my food. I don't need help or protection. I'm in a barn I can lock, and I can bring food and make warmth. The animals and I will snuggle. I'll piss in the rushes with them. Share their water. This is what I knew I'd be doing this winter.”

“Then what am I supposed to be doing?” Derek huffed angrily, “Where do I fit in here?”

Mischief gave him a sad look, “Same as Scott. Field workers repair the homestead during the winter. Bring me food, shovel a pathway when you can, and if you feel like tending to my _other_ needs despite me smelling like livestock I won't say no.”

Derek snorted, “I don't like this, but... I respect your knowledge and position here.”

“Thank you,” Mischief smiled up at him lovingly, “When I know what winters will be like in the future we'll plan this better. For now, caution is too important.”

Derek pressed a kiss to his forehead, “I'm going to be a good little field worker and bring you blankets and food.”

“You're so sexy when you work the homestead.”

“Yeah, yeah, enjoy sleeping with animals tonight.”

“I sleep with an animal every night,” Mischief teased, growling at him and clawing the air.

“I'm mated to an idiot,” Derek groaned, but left him to tend his animals.

Kira made a token protest as well, worried that Mischief wouldn't be safe mentally at the very least since he was separate from pack. Derek assured her otherwise, stroking her hair when she fretted and pressing a hand to her sore lower back to take her pain.

“It isn't good to be separate from pack, but as long as he's _in_ a pack, which he is, he'll be fine.”

  
“You're his mate,” she replied, putting her worries aside, “You know what he's made of best.”

“Hard tack and sarcasm,” Derek rolled his eyes, “And sunlight and laughter. He'll be fine.”

Kira gave him a genuine smile and Derek pressed a fond kiss to her head, surprised at the swell of emotion in his heart. Kira felt like pack now, the connection between them real and tangible. When he stepped away to pack things for Mischief he found Scott smiling at him proudly.

“What?” Derek asked.

“You're going to be great at this,” Scott told him firmly.

Derek shook his head, not sure what Scott meant about that, and moved on to what would be a long winter with his _pregnant_ mate sleeping in a barn. He brought Mischief his things and left him singing to his animals in apparent ease and calm. That night Derek lay in Melissa's arms, seeking comfort from their beta when his omega was away from him.

The snow was four feet deep the next morning. Derek climbed out a window to get to Mischief, shoveled a pathway so he could move about if he wanted to, but the door to the barn was frozen and wedged shut. Some part of the mechanism in the unweathered wood had swollen or shifted. The windows were too high to reach and designed to be opened from inside to avoid predators or thieves sneaking in and animals climbing out.

“Mischief!” Derek called, banging on it and thinking of prying it open even if it jammed the lock.

“Stop! It's locked from my end,” Mischief insisted, “What are you freaking out for?”

“The snow is up to my chest!” Derek called anxiously.

“That's it? Huh. It's fine, honey, go back to the cabin.”

“HOW IS THIS FINE?”

“The snow is insulating the barn further, Derek. It's nice and warm in here. If you open it I'll have to build up the fire again. I've got food and water for another two days. Check then.” Mischief's voice was soothing through the barn door, and Derek pressed his hand to it in longing. He imagined Mischief doing the same on his side.

“You're really okay?”

“I'm fine, Derek. Really. I have a jar of pickles, hard tack, dried meat, and Bonnie laid and stashed two eggs which I have found much to her displeasure.”

“Bonnie laid eggs?! In _winter?_ ”

“She must have seen me sharpening my claws and staring her down over the summer, the brat.”

Derek smiled softly, “Okay. Okay, I trust you. Just... _don't leave me.”_

“I'm healthy and safe, Derek. I'll howl if that changes. I promise, it's not even cold. I have tons of wood and the barn is full of warm bodies. Go. It's fine.”

“I love you,” Derek forced out, not used to saying such words.

“I live for you.”


	19. Chapter 19

Two days later Derek felt like an idiot. The snow all melted and the rest of the winter was so mild that Mischief only spent a few more nights out in the barn, here and there throughout the next few months, paying attention to the smell of the air to tell him when he needed to winter there. The winter wasn't the terror they'd heard of taking out the Donner party, there was no desperate struggle, their stores below didn't freeze, and the second snowfall had been the worst of it. In all they felt almost over-prepared. Derek still hunted where he could, worried about a sudden change and keeping Kira alive while she ate for two or more. Kira paced the floor as she grew larger by the day, while Melissa prepared for her birth and Kira prepared for cubs.

When the day came that Kira's body began to cramp and didn't stop the omega went from serene and patient to terrified. She lay on the birthing mat that she and Melissa had woven together and cried for her mother.

Melissa held her gently and told Derek to get Mischief from the barn. His mate threw extra wood on the fire for the animals, tossed them food, overfilled their water trough, and left them to support Kira.

“It's okay,” He whispered after washing up and kneeling beside her, “It's okay, Kira.”

“ _Mama_!” Kira called, “I need her! I can't do this without her!”

“You're going to _be_ a mama,” Mischief soothed, imitating her accent on the word, “Your body is meant to do this. You _can_ do this, Kira. You have Melissa who has aided in the births of dozens of babies, and I've helped deliver a hundred or so animals, and you're going to fill this room with the smell of babies and milk.”

“Yeah,” Scott soothed, “Melissa gave birth to me, so if a beta could get through this than you can, too.”

Kira's contraction ended in that moment, giving her a brief respite, and as misfortune would have it, it also gave her a moment to speak words that should have never been said.

“You mean, she _delivered_ you,” Kira panted, then accepted water from Melissa who was shushing her gently. She should have shushed her firmly instead.

“Well, yeah,” Scott nodded, “Delivered me. Like you're going to deliver our cubs. You're going to be _amazing,_ just like my mom.”

Kira's eyes screwed up in confusion and she looked at Melissa who gave her a tearful look and bit her lip. Derek was starting to catch on to what was happening and a sick feeling turned his stomach, so he quickly brought tea over to Kira.

“Here,” Derek told her, “Europeans and Asians have one thing in common. Tea fixes everything. Sip some before you start up again. It's not too hot.”

Kira accepted it easily, while Scott glanced back and forth between Kira and his mother in obvious confusion. Kira's next contraction ended the conversation, but the thought stayed with Scott and would come up later.

Kira's panic had passed with their distractions, and with another omega and their pack beta by her side, soothing her fears and physical aches, and the alphas taking her pain in waves and turns when they could, she became stronger throughout rather than weaker. She was drawing on her kitsune spirit, the glow around her fluctuating with her contractions. When the time came she was brought to her feet with the strength of her pack, all hands on her body to lend her their strength. They couldn't take all the pain, because she needed to feel the urge to push, but they took small doses each and with hands, words, wolves, and foxes they held her in place as she bore down. Kira roared out her pain and demanded her cubs be brought into the world. Alive. Breathing. Howling. Eyes flashed, claws stretched, teeth extended, and Mischief guided a cub from her body while Melissa kept her going with words in her ears and firm hands on her hips.

The baby fell into Mischief's arms and Melissa left Kira to her alpha's care to drop down and quickly clear the baby's mouth of fluids and give him a quick swing in the air to get him howling.

“A son!” Melissa called, hurrying to wrap him up from the chill in the cabin.

“One more push, Kira,” Mischief ordered, “Hold her steady, boys! Kira, my lovely warrior princess, come on. One more push.”

“I can't,” She panted, eyes tracking where Melissa carried her baby, “I want...”

“You can,” Mischief insisted, “You need that placenta to feed your baby. Bring out those vitamins. He still needs them. _Push_ , Kira!”

Kira keened in pain but passed the fleshy mass of nutrition that had kept her baby going. It was hers now, meant to return to her body as quickly as possible. Mischief rushed the mess to the simmering pot full of bone broth and spices nearby, washed it quickly, and dropped it in. He let it boil a moment and then damped the fire and capped it to let it simmer. It was hers alone, so he used the smallest pot. No one would share this. Kira had earned this meal. Melissa meanwhile was cleaning and swaddling the baby, who was screaming his head off for his mother.

Kira was laid down on a different mat beside the birthing mat and Scott began to clean her body with a warm, damp rag. Derek felt out of sorts. Melissa's instructions for him hadn't included after the afterbirth was passed. Just to let her rest. This wasn't _his_ omega and he was intruding on a very private moment now, but this wasn't a normal situation. They weren't in a city or a town where only omegas, betas, a midwife, and Scott would be involved. He was the odd packmate out, but he could still take her pain, and now he did in much larger increments than he had during the birth. Kira gave him a grateful look so he knew he had done the right thing. Scott got most of her body clean and Melissa returned to check her bleeding, clean that more crucial area herself, and press a compress to her torn vulva to ward off infection. They then carried her quickly to the pack bed and laid bleeding blankets beneath her.

“Scott, lay with her, wrap her tightly in your arms,” Melissa instructed quickly, “We need to keep her as warm as possible. Mischief, bring the babe here! Derek, build up the fire, move the pot up if you have to. She has to stay warm. Hot is best. Keep her awake and keep her warm at all times. Thank the moon this month is unseasonably warm!”

Melissa guided the baby to Kira's breast while Scott lay beside her. Her legs were propped up and blankets laid over her in piles. The room swelled to uncomfortably hot and Kira still shivered under blankets and with her alpha warming her and taking her pain.

“What's wrong with her?” Derek pleaded when Melissa stood up a moment to drink some water and then bring some to each person.

She offered some to Kira next, “Drink up, baby. Mischief, how's that stew coming?”

“Not done yet. Should we give her something else?”

“Water for now, she needs it first anyway,” Melissa replied, “Some more hot tea, perhaps.”

“I can brew it,” Derek replied, slipping out of bed as Melissa slipped in and heading for the teapot. He stood by Mischief and tried to hide how his hands were shaking.

“It's shock,” Mischief told him softly.

“What's shocking?” Derek whispered back.

“No, not shocking. Shock. She's in shock. Losing all that blood, straining that hard, feeling that much pain, it pulls on the body and weakens the soul and the will to live. Warmth of pack, water, food, blood-rich things like this afterbirth will keep her alive.”

“She could die from this?” Derek whispered, “She just looks fevered!”

“Omegas don't die in childbirth often,” Mischief replied softly, but hesitated to finish his words.

“But?” Derek asked, noting the tone in his voice.

  
“But this isn't a city or town, and our pack is small, and this time of year is harder on a body giving birth. The baby is well- for now- but Kira is the one who is in danger. If she fails, than the baby lives on hard tack we soak in water.”

“Duck food.”

“Goat milk will make him sick, and my milk won't come in until mine is born.”

Derek took the teapot off the fire and poured it into a glass, stirring it and carefully scooping out a few stray leaves.

“She's going to be fine,” Derek stated firmly, “Do you know why?”

Mischief groaned, “Please don't say tea.”

“Because she drinks _tea.”_

“I hate you.”

Derek walked the tea over to Kira and helped her drink, and a few minutes later Mischief brought over her stew. He fed it to her in increments while she drowsed and her baby was gently winded by Melissa who had laid beneath the covers on her other side to warm her. When the baby was full Mischief slipped him out and laid him in his crib close to the fireplace for warmth. The crib was in reaching distance of the bed and Scott reached out sometimes to rock the crib and soothe his cub.

“He's beautiful,” Derek admired, “A strong babe from a strong mother.”

“She'll be okay,” Scott swore, petting her hair and then shaking her awake, “You'll be okay.”

“I will if you let me _sleep.”_ She complained.

“The danger is passed,” Melissa stated after checking her eyes and finger tips, “Let her rest now.”

Kira fell into a deep slumber immediately upon being allowed and Derek walked over to Mischief who was touching his own belly gently. He had just a tiny hardness at his abdomen so far. Babies conceived during heat would be born right after a fall harvest, when food was plentiful, cows and goats had milk, and the weather was just cooling off. Their carrier would be exempt from harvest, being too heavy, which was why omegas usually stayed in a homestead even when all hands were on deck to get food from the ground. Mischief would be at home making pies, preserving foods for winter, and filling himself with vitamin rich food to supply his milk once his baby was born. In some places it was dangerously cold during that time, and some people would mate before heat to avoid pregnancy lasting too long, but in Mischief's case their fall the year before had been quite calm and fairly warm.

“I'm going to go check on my animals,” Mischief whispered when Derek had no words to say in comfort.

Derek was kicking himself as Mischief wrapped up and headed out to the barn. The frost wasn't quite over, but it was close to it so they were unlikely to get buried in snow. Mischief was fleeing the cabin and his fears within. He'd helped bring so many into the world, but to do so himself had to be terrifying and Derek was shit at saying the right thing. Instead he went out to the barn and joined Mischief. Watching in silence as he fussed over the animals who snuggled up to him. The ducks had fallen in love with Mischief as well, and even though they were wild beasts they were content to grow fat while circling his legs.

“We've got a new family member,” Mischief told them happily, “We didn't even have to slaughter anyone during the winter, so that was nice, but the bigger the family the more the needs, and I'm _sick_ of dried meat. We might have to have a nice yummy duck dinner tonight. Yes we might!”

“Does that mean I actually get to catch one?” Derek snorted.

Mischief echoed the sound, “If we do eat one it will come fat to slaughter like a good duck. Right out the door and into the kitchen. Bonnie, you're next if you stop laying all summer.”

“You'll never eat that mean old hen,” Derek teased as she pecked Mischief' toes at the sound of her name.

“Ow! You asshole! OW!”

Derek laughed lightly, “She love/hates you as much as you love/hate her.”

“There is _no love,”_ Mischief insisted.

“There's a little love.”

Mischief threw them some more food and joined Derek with a groan, nuzzling into him and rubbing their cheeks together, “I'm going to have a _baby.”_

“Yup.”

“It's going to scream and poop.”

“Knowing you, it will mostly scream.”

“It's going to be cute and I'll never sleep again.”

“You'll have a whole winter to be lazy,” Derek reminded him, “Stuck in the house with Melissa doting over you, weaseling me into doing your chores, making-”

“Oh no,” Mischief went still, “Who will sleep with the animals in winter?!”

“Uh...”

“I can't bring a _baby_ in here! What if it's a human? Oh gods, what if Kira's is a human?! What if our babies _die?!”  
_

“Mischief!” Derek gave him a light shake to stop the panic from taking over, “That won't happen! If worse comes to worse Melissa will stay out here with the animals, she knows them as well as you do and the baby will be born before first frost or at least first snow. Kira and Scott and I will take care of you two while you shout instructions at us and call us idiots.”

Mischief stared up at him with wide yes and then said something he'd been expecting for some time, “Do you know how to make skins?”

Derek nodded, “I didn't want to waste supplies on making them before we knew what winter was like, but yes.”

“You do realize we might _not_ know what winter is like, right? That could be the most mild winter to ever exist and we get lulled into a false state of security and then die next year.”

“That won't happen, because you're a paranoid bastard who will make sure that we aren't lazy. Do you know any ways to prevent pregnancy? I know the ladies I laid with in London mentioned it at some point, but I never learned much about it.”

“I know about pessaries, but they aren't very effective. I do have one. My mother made sure I did before I left. It's... ugh, it's awful. It hurts so much, and the stuff you put on it makes me itch for days after! I tried it on twice, hoping my body would get used to it, but it just can't stand it. It uses some diluted wolfsbane to kill werewolf sperm. I feared it would make be barren so I stopped using it.”

Derek's eyes widened, “That sounds awful. I know they make rubber ones now, ones that can be reused. Perhaps if we make a journey to a nearby town we can get one from a pharmacist?”

“That would be amazing,” Mischief looked relieved, “We should see what we can do this summer. Scott can go if I'm unable to travel.”

Derek nodded, “In the mean time, I'll catch a deer and make a few for us both so Scott doesn't get Kira in a family way immediately.”

Mischief nodded, “I doubt she'll let him near her for a bit, but yeah.”

“She should be healed up by now,” Derek pointed out, “Want to come see her? You'll feel better.”

“You're right,” Mischief decided it was warm enough to open one of the doors a bit, just enough for the animals to go in and out, and propped it with a stone, “I'll come back and chase them inside later. The ducks will probably want to stay out here, but some of them have eggs inside so it might get tricky. We might need to start leaving the door open and hoping the fire and snuggling are enough to stay warm.”

“They've laid?” Derek asked in surprise.

“Where did you think I was getting so many eggs from? Bonnie?”

“Well, yeah-”

“Nope. She tricked me. She was sitting on small duck eggs. Probably some duds the ducks kicked out of their nests. I thought they looked odd, but I was so overjoyed I didn't question it. Ducks lay in winter, Derek! We need to find the drakes and cull them so we have eggs year round.”

“Won't we run out of ducks eventually?” Derek worried.

“No, wild males will come in and sneak breed our little bread whores,” Mischief chuckled, “I'm going to band ours... damn, I should have done that before letting them out! I'm so used to chickens! Well... it will be easier to sex the ducklings anyway. Let the first generation be wild.”

Derek and Mischief entered the cabin to find that Kira was having Scott prepare her a full bath; a cold tub filled with water was by the fire and Scott was adding boiling water to it in increments. She was sitting on the side of the bed over a bleeding cloth with just a blanket wrapped around her while nursing her baby. Mischief approached with big, wide eyes, and stared at the baby in longing.

“If you want you can hold Liam while I bathe?” She offered.

“No fair!” Scott's head shot up.

“You held him already!” She laughed.

Kira did let Mischief hold him, and he stood frozen in place while staring down at the tightly bundled baby in his arms.

“He's so small,” Mischief whispered.

“He's a respectable weight, Melissa said so!” Kira sniffed haughtily as she slid into her bath, “Ooo! Cold!”

“I've got another kettle on,” Scott told her.

“I'm aching in places that shouldn't ache,” She told him, squirming down in the big round tub, “I hate this.”

“We'll wait till the proper time next time,” Scott told her.

“You'll wait a few years at least!” She snapped.

Scott gave her a terrified look but Mischief shook his head in amusement, “We were just talking birth control. We'll wait for our second spawn for a bit.”

“Uh...” Derek looked stressed, “That might involve separating us in the winter for your heat. Alphas are known to remove condoms during heat.”

“Oh, that's normal,” Mischief waved him away, “Why do you think I'm used to sleeping in a barn? It was pretty common for Melissa to take me and a few other omegas who either didn't want to conceive or were unmated into the barn for the winter heat. That's where we had the cage for full moons, too. Right under a window so we could get moonlight but not be harassed.”

“Oh!” Melissa laughed, “Remember that young thing who was obsessed with you!”

“Matthew!” Mischief laughed, “Oh my gosh, he kept coming around every full moon and staring in at me through the window! It was so _weird._ He drew a picture once!”

“I don't know how his ears tolerated your screams!” Melissa laughed, “We certainly didn't!”

“When mom and Erica sat on me for a whole night I was _not thrilled,”_ Mischief snorted.

“For the record, you were being _awful_ that year.”

“Ugh, it was like my fourth heat that month! I just wanted _DICK._ Instead I got omega butts pinning me down so I couldn't scream my unbridled rage at the world.”

“Your rage was truly unbridled,” Melissa nodded, “I tried to talk Claudia and Noah into letting you mate, but they were so adamant you not!”

Mischief's expression turned sorrowful, “They were holding out for a brideprice so they could get rid of their debt. I found out before I left. Problem was, no one wanted me and I had no dowry to speak of beyond my omega kits for keeping house. Only a farmer would want me, and most of them were too racist and specist to go near me.”

“I wasn't,” Derek kissed his temple and smiled down at the baby in his arms, “Lecherous men cost nothing, apparently.”

“And they bed well,” Mischief waggled his eyebrows.

Derek laughed and Scott took the baby from them with a look of disgust, “Keep that to yourselves!”

Mischief turned a bit and gave Derek another look that had Derek struggling with his breeches. Kira teased him as he fled to the bed, ditching clothes as he went.

“I'm getting all the knot I can while it doesn't cost me a day of birthing!” Mischief laughed, throwing himself down in the bedding with a crow of delight.

Derek pounced on him, spreading his pretty legs and diving down to suckle his length eagerly. Mischief cooed and pulled at his hair while the rest of the pack went about their day, not bothered by the two working each other to a froth on the bed. Derek collected Mischief's first release in his mouth and fisted his cock with it, moving down to finger Mischief's pretty little cunt.

Mischief's shivered and then rolled over, presenting his ass to Derek in his favorite position. It drove him wild and he had to calm himself to make sure that Mischief could take him. His mate was more sensitive around his rosebud now that he was with child. Derek found Mischief ready and wet, worked him open a bit so the burn wouldn't be too much, and slid in to the hilt in one go with a low groan.

Mischief was whining beneath him, rolling his hips and meeting each of Derek's thrusts with his own eager push back. Derek stretched out across Mischief's back, the angle making Mischief keen, and rubbed his hand over the little bump that would be his own cub someday. Mischief let out a ragged cry and splashed his hand with his slick. Derek growled his approval and pushed up on his hands, gripping plush ass so he could fuck into Mischief fast and hard.

“It's too much!” Mischief cried out, but spread his legs wider and let out a ragged cry as he climaxed a third time.

“So close,” Derek promised, feeling his base begin to swell.

He knotted Mischief with a grunt of relief, eyes rolling in his head as he began to spill into him over and again. There was no womb ready to receive him this time, but that didn't mean that it wasn't bliss for them both. They sagged to the side together, and Derek wrapped his vulnerable mate up in blankets with gentle love.

“Mischief?” Derek asked, “When they sat on you... was it because you wanted Matthew?”

“Oh my gods, failwolf,” Mischief groaned, “No. He was the only beta around who wanted me, and I was afraid of him.”

“He was a beta?”

“Yeah, but that wasn't my issue. I'd have mated with a beta and given up on moving to a territory if it was the right person. There was something about him... his smell? Like pepper and vinegar, but not just that... I can't explain it. I was terrified of him. Whenever he came near my body reacted like it was aroused even though he wasn't an alpha because I was in hyper-heat for a season, but then I'd start shaking and keening like I was in danger. It was _humiliating_ , and I couldn't control it. When he spied on me during our full moons I'd hide behind the others and scream at him to leave. That wasn't when mom and Erika sat on me, though. That was because I kept presenting to Lydia. Same season. I was just _so_ desperate! She was this beta banshee- totally not into me- but she had a horse she kept in our barn. My parents didn't even _try_ to talk to hers about mating with me because as far as they were concerned we were the help. She didn't give two fucks if it was a full moon and us werewolf omegas were locked in there being miserable. She'd come in and get her horse to go for a midnight ride with her lover anyway. Our little cage kept alphas out, but it didn't keep us from going up against the bars and asking to be taken right _through_ them. I think there were supposed to be a second set of bars? Anyway. I kept doing that when Lydia came around, so mom and Erica would sit on me to stop me being awful or provoking her to give me a try. Not that she even _glanced_ , of course. Also embarrassing.”

“You wanted her?” Derek worried.

Mischief glanced over his shoulder, “I did, but I don't anymore and haven't for a long time. I didn't bring her up before because she hasn't been on my mind. This is better, Derek. I wouldn't want to be with someone who thought I was inferior. I want _you._ I want someone who wants the same things I do. Who would build a homestead with me. Lydia would have sat on her ass like a queen and ordered us all around. I mean, she was _totally_ a queen, but that's beside the point. It would have been awful and I'd have regretted it. Lust doesn't equal a future, Derek. This does.”

Mischief linked their fingers and settled back against Derek with a happy sigh. Derek snuggled against his mate, mouthing at his mating gland and feeling like the world couldn't possibly get any better than this moment in time, with the smell of a new packmate nearby and his beloved in his arms. Content and in love.


	20. Chapter 20

They were all pretty obsessed with keeping the baby warm and Kira fed and supplying milk. They had plenty of food still, but the variety wasn't great. Little baby Liam thrived despite the odd time of year he was born, and it wasn't long before Kira was outside working once more with Mischief and Melissa.

Derek was fascinated by how poor omegas dealt with having to feed a baby for 30 hours a day while still working and sleeping enough to function on a homestead. It started with just not buttoning up her blouse and not wearing a corset. She had cloth stays around her belly instead. This would be scandalous in the circles Derek grew up in, but for working omegas it was a necessity. Rather than have her breasts on display, which defeated the purpose, her baby and bosom were wrapped up together so the baby could turn his head and nurse as he wanted while she worked. Kira got very good at reading when the baby was about to pee or poo, and would quickly pull Liam out to hold him aloft and let him relieve himself wherever she was.

This adjustment to life with a child was a huge distraction for them all, leading to laughter, jokes, and loss of sleep for a time, which was why it took longer than Derek thought it would for Scott to bring up his parentage.

The night he finally brought it up was while everyone was so tired that even the baby was sound asleep and unlikely to wake anytime soon. Kira was barely awake as she nursed him by the fire, Mischief was cleaning up after dinner, Melissa had fallen asleep while darning socks, and the alphas were still picking at dinner. Mischief had spent some time trying to get the donkeys to breed throughout the day- they were very skittish because of a prowling wildcat- and was sore and tired.

Scott eventually joined Mischief in clean up and then nudged his hip gently while glancing over at his mother.

“Um... is it true that... that alphas can't have alpha babies without omegas?” Scott asked him softly.

Mischief grimaced, “I think you should talk to Melissa about this.”

“Mischief. Please. She's been avoiding telling me about sex for so long I didn't know what to... _Kira_ had to tell me what to do. For our first time. It's why we weren't prepared to _not_ get pregnant. You knew more about sex than I did, and I wasn't allowed to talk to you about it. I just need to know.”

Mischief sighed, drying off his hands and turning to face Scott with a frown, “I don't know how she came to be your mother, but I know she's your mom, Scott.”

“So... it's not true?”

“Only omega and alpha combinations can have alpha babies. That's a fact. So is that she's your mom.”

“Then where did I come from?” Scott asked, eyes wide and vulnerable.

“I don't know, Scott, that's why you have to ask her.”

“I can't,” Scott whined, “Can't you? You always wanna know stuff.”

“Ugh, fine,” Mischief huffed, “Come on. We need to get to bed before the baby wakes us up before we've even fallen asleep.”

“That doesn't make sense,” Kira huffed, standing up again, “I wish I could _sleep._ ”

“I know,” Mischief rubbed her arm gently as they climbed into bed and the baby was _finally_ separated from her in order to sleep in his bassinet where it was safe, “Next time we'll time our pregnancies so we can take turns nursing at night. More sleep for each of us.”

Melissa shuffled over and Derek dragged himself to the bed and they all snuggled in together. Derek fell asleep quickly, but the next morning the bags beneath Mischief's eyes implied that he had not slept well at all.

Derek was curious as well, and decided to snoop a bit. Mischief knew what he was up to and let him hover around the barn, pretending to check for leaks, while Mischief checked his animals in the morning. Melissa was happily milking Reggie when Mischief brought it up.

“Something odd occurred to me recently,” Mischief stated, “About, you know, birth and life and-”

“Mischief, what has your mother told you about minding your own business?” Melissa asked sharply.

Mischief sighed, “Okay, so that wasn't subtle at all and you're still on the alert after the childbirth to boot. Listen, Scott wants to know. He asked me to ask you because he doesn't think you'll tell him. You don't _have_ to tell me, but you do need to tell him. He deserves the truth, even if it's something awful. You don't... you don't _stop_ being his mom just because he knows the truth.”

Melissa had her head down, still working away despite the attention on her and the seriousness of the conversation. When she finished she stood up and put her hands on her hips.

“I _am_ his mother, Mischief,” She stated firmly, “I gave birth to him. Scott's mine.”

Mischief frowned, “Then... Okay, I've heard of alpha's becoming omegas because they couldn't form packs. They turn into a beta first, which was what Derek was headed towards when I contacted him. Then if they can't _join_ a pack they'll become an omega; to lure in a mate and therefore a pack.”

“And then a gamma, to be put down when they go insane,” Melissa nodded, “None of that happened.”

“So... how? How is Scott an alpha?”

“I don't know,” She threw her hands up in the air, “I honestly don't know how he's an alpha. I expected an omega or beta child. You remember that we thought Scott was a beta for a while?”

“Yeah, it's why we weren't separated for so long. We got to be friends for longer than anyone else I knew,” Mischief nodded.

  
“That's because he _was a beta._ We told him he emerged late, because there was just no other explanation. Then people started to question parentage and it became an issue. Kira's parents weren't fighting _just_ for a better price. They were using that as an excuse. When I went to petition on Scott's behalf they wanted to know his _real_ parentage. I told them I didn't know because I had no real explanation, so it just became this mystery and I let people think I adopted him. It was better than making him an item like you had become.”

Mischief thought for a moment and then frowned, “There has to be other cases of this happening. Satomi was never around much, and she was the only alpha in our pack after your husband became a postmaster and started moving around more than sticking around.”

“Good riddance.”

“Yeah, but at that point our pack is kinda short an alpha since Satomi sees us only on full moons. Melissa... do you think Scott just sort of... stepped up to the plate?”

“That's what I think, but I couldn't draw attention to it. I had Deaton look him over as is required for alphas, and he advised the same thing. Don't draw attention to it. People will make it a big deal. I could have been accused of hiding my gender- of being a secret omega- and burned at the stake!”

Mischief stepped forward and hugged her tightly around his growing belly, “That's not going to happen. You're safe and no one will find you out here, or make Scott a specimen.”

“I know,” She sighed, “That's why his father helped us get the land as quickly as we did. We just needed to get us both to safety.”

“Ew,” Mischief stepped back, “His dad's going to visit here at some point, isn't he?”

She rolled her eyes, “Doubtful.”


	21. Chapter 21

“I'm going,” Mischief insisted, “I haven't ever walked through a town without being guarded! I got, like, one day on the farm after being claimed! I want this, Derek!”

Derek grimaced, but knew he'd give in. Mischief was round with his child, and for that reason Derek didn't want him to go _anywhere_ that wasn't his bed without clothes on. However, his mate had him wrapped around his finger and was already packing a small bag of essentials for the walk to the nearest town. It would take a few days and they would be camping along the road in a small tent made of tanned skins. Mischief had made it and he had loudly proclaimed that it was his right to sleep under it. Derek knew he'd be complaining about his back the whole time, but he was still _going_.

Derek and Mischief walked fast despite Mischief being six months pregnant. His mate was sex personified to Derek, so one of the things he intended to buy was a reusable rubber skin, because if Mischief looked as good feeding their baby as he did pregnant than Derek would have him pregnant again the second his ass healed. As it was they were fucking several times a day, sometimes not knotting because Mischief was too sore for it. Derek came so hard it didn't matter. Mischief was driving him _insane._

To make matters more annoying Mischief hadn't built his nest in their cozy cabin that Derek and Scott had built for him. Whether it was because it had been another family's logs or because he was an animal lover, Derek didn't know, but Mischief had made his nest in a cleaned out stall in the barn close to the clay stove and just decided that was where he'd have their child. Melissa had laughed for a solid ten minutes at the sight of Mischief's nest, mostly furs and blankets but also a few supplies for giving birth. Derek had rolled his eyes hard and insisted more supplies be brought in. It wouldn't be likely to be too cold, but it sure as hell wouldn't be the cozy, private, birth that Kira had had. Reggie was sure to at the very least shout her encouragement the _whole time._

The journey was uneventful if miserable, raining most of the time, and Derek and Mischief entered the town with a sigh of relief. Derek went to the sheriff's station first, as the most notable sign in the small town. He checked in with them over the local laws, making sure that he could trade furs and what the local ratio was. Apparently furs weren't very much wanted here, but they might get _something_ for them. Certainly their fertilized duck eggs would go over better. Chickens were the main poultry there, but ducks weren't as plentiful.

Derek and Mischief left the small building and headed for the next place of necessity; a tradesman building. The Sherriff was right. Furs were already plentiful. Mischief held up his eggs to the sun and toted the joys of ducks for supply of oils, eggs during winter, down, and high caloric food. Mostly, they traded. Mischief needed salt, flour, and sugar, Melissa some herbs that they hadn't found, and Scott some paper to wrap certain produce in to keep it fresh during the winter. Mischief debated over getting more cheese cloth, and finally did since he thought goat cheese would trade better next year, especially if he did something fancy with it like add in fruit or nuts to give it a unique flavor that the towns people didn't get regularly.

The coins they did get Mischief took to the postal service while Derek took some to the pharmacist. It turned out rubber condoms were not to be had in the town, but they _could_ mail order them for him. The pharmacist had Derek use a bit of Mischief's bedding to get hard and pop a knot, measured it, and had him awkwardly fill out a form for the sheath. Derek hadn't realized how difficult the process was, or how personal, and was sorry that he hadn't brought Scott instead of Mischief. They wouldn't get the mail for a while, and when they did it wouldn't include one for Scott. Derek wondered if they could share, but the pharmacist warned him against spreading diseases- there were a few that might strike an omega barren before healing- and that if his friend were to big it could get _stuck_ on him, requiring a doctor to remove it. Derek bought Melissa's herbs form him, paid for his sheath, and took the mail order form with him so Scott could get a head start.

Mischief was to mail the furs they didn't sell to his parents along with a lengthy letter, and mail a second to Kira's parents. However, when Derek got to the post office Mischief wasn't there, nor was his scent in the building. Derek asked about him and received a negative. Worried, he headed outdoors and began sniffing the air. He was just growing concerned when he caught the scent of Mischief's fear. Derek took off at a run, scenting his mate frantically and alarming a few as he darted by with red eyes and a growl in his throat.

“Charles!” Derek shouted in surprise, finding their donkey, still saddled and loaded with their things, braying in the middle of the street.

There were a group of people surrounding him, keeping him from bolting and asking about the scent of the owner and if they could just take the stuff off of him. Derek plowed through him to snatch his reins up and pull him close.

“Where is the omega who was with him?!” Derek demanded, ignoring any question of ownership. The donkey was just a step towards finding Mischief, as far as he was concerned, “His name is Mischief! He'd never just _leave_ Charles, he loves him!”

No one had seen Mischief. Derek kept sniffing the air in alarm, the group growing more worried as Derek blurted out his description, including that he was _pregnant._ Now everyone was frantic, shouting for Mischief and searching corners. Derek caught his scent first and followed it to his mate.

He found Mischief trembling in an alleyway, crouched down with his arms wrapped around his belly protectively. Others heard his shout of relief, and came running after to see the drama play out. Mischief was peering up at Derek with wide, terrified eyes.

“What happened?” Derek demanded, kneeling down to touch his cheek gently, “Are you hurt? Who hurt you? I'll _kill them!”_

“I...” Mischief's heart was rabbitting away in his chest, but he just shook his head, “I got scared. The town's so big.”

The crowd melted, ooing and ahhing at the 'poor, sweet omega'. Some gave a hard time for leaving him alone (don't you know they need constant supervision?). Derek, however, was instantly suspicious. Mischief? Scared of being alone?

Not likely.

“Sometimes I forget you're so young and inexperienced what with all that sass you put out. Come on. We'll go to the post office together,” Derek stated, hoping to get the crowd off of their back in case the danger was with them.

Derek and Mischief headed there with Mischief tucked beneath his arm, pressing against him tightly as he led him through the town. Derek had to lead the donkey, but the hand around Mischief's waist stroked the side of his belly possessively. _His_ mate. _His_ seed. _His_ omega. _His_ cubs. Mischief's hands were both wrapped around his belly and he was still trembling slightly. When the approached the post office Derek knew instantly why. He had made a note in his mind the moment Mischief had described it to him to always be wary of a man who smelled of black pepper and vinegar. He paused in front of the building and stared around himself, scenting the air and trying to track the very distinct odor to a person or at least a location. It seemed whoever it was had left, but they spent so much time in this location that it lingered obviously.

“He's not here,” Derek assured Mischief, who relaxed marginally with Derek's words, “No one will hurt you. Ever.”

Derek let Mischief tie up Charles because he wasn't about to remove his arm from Mischief's side and the other had claws drawn. They moved into the post office in a similar fashion, with Mischief looking more like a hostage than a cherished mate. The worker gave them an alarmed look and crouched a bit behind the counter. He probably worried about attack.

“We need to send two letters, one with a package,” Derek spoke around a mouthful of teeth.

The man ducked behind the counter completely.

“Oh my goat,” Mischief sighed, “Okay, big guy, let me handle it. Sir? Sir, please, we're not a threat. He's just _really_ protective of me because I'm pregnant. I need to send a letter and a package to my family in Boston, and another letter to a different family in Boston. We've got them addressed already.”

The worker appeared eventually, his eyes wary as they flashed beta yellow. He looked the epitome of submissive as he filed the paperwork, took their coins, and then hurriedly vanished into the back without a goodbye. Mischief let out a sigh of relief and they left in a hurry. Derek practically dragged Mischief out of the town, eyes seeking the corners to check for someone who might be following them.

“We're going the wrong way?” Mischief mentioned.

“We're going to double back. Twice.”

“Derek, that's crazy.”

“No, that's careful.”

“Careful was you keeping me close in town, paranoid is you doubling back _twice_ before we go home.”

“Mischief, I lost my entire family, my entire pack, and nearly myself in the process. I lost everything in one night, because of one jealous person. I'd always been leery of my uncle, and I will _never_ forgive myself for not being more _cautious._ If that man scares you, it's _for a reason._ Trust those instincts.”

“Okay,” Mischief nodded, “Let's be crazy and double back twice.”


	22. Chapter 22

Derek stormed onto their property with Mischief's arm still gripped in his arms and practically shoved him into the barn while he ranted about the donkey.

“Charles needs to be unloaded, brushed down, watered-”

“So do it!” Derek snapped, “Scott! Watch the far side of the barn! Melissa, keep an eye on Kira. Mischief isn't without an alpha anymore. Not ever. Not even for a second.”

“What happened?” Scott asked as he rounded the barn to guard the back while Mischief tended to Charles at breakneck speed.

Derek unloaded him so Mischief wasn't carrying anything too heavy, and then went out front to guard that area while Mischief finished up with him. He let him back in with Donna, his mate, and left them to their fraternizing. Donna was pregnant, which was why they hadn't utilized her for their venture even though she was less obnoxious.

“Mischief hasn't told me the full story,” Derek stated in an accusatory tone.

“I told you, I ran when I caught his scent!”

“He wasn't there when we got back! He had to have seen you!”

“I don't _know!_ For all I know it was a different guy that smelled like pepper and vinegar!”

“Matthew?” Scott laughed, coming back around the barn, “He's just a weird little guy, Derek. He's harmless.”

“Mischief instinctively _ran and hid.”_

“Yeah, he always did when Matthew was around.” Scott shrugged.

Derek was clenching and unclenching his fists in fury, “And what? You don't trust his instincts?”

“I mean, it's just ridiculous!” Scott sputtered, starting to turn red.

“When has Mischief _ever_ done anything ridiculous?” Derek demanded to know.

“When has he _not?”_ Scott sputtered.

“Name something important!” Derek demanded.

Mischief answered him instead, gesturing to _all_ of Derek.

“He has a point,” Scott nodded.

“Kira!” Derek turned to a source of rational, “Melissa! If you were instinctively _petrified_ of someone-”

Derek didn't have to finish, because Scott let out a savage growl in response to the very idea of Kira feeling that way. Derek nodded at him and Scott studied Mischief with worry in his eyes.

“He really... like, it's serious?”

Mischief let out a slow breath, “Everyone always laughed at it, said I was being a silly little omega, but when he looked at me it was like he was claiming me with- stop growling, Derek- with his eyes. If I accidentally met his eyes I'd freeze. Like a rabbit meeting the eyes of a fox. I wouldn't be able to _move._ So I started running, hiding, ducking my head, closing my eyes and screaming at him if I were in fox form. Except he liked that. He'd start to smell like...”

Mischief closed his eyes and shuddered, trying to block out his own words, and Scott bolted forward to wrap him in his arms and hug him tightly.

“Mischief, I'm so sorry. I kept hearing people laugh about it and I thought... I'm _so sorry!”_

“I'm not some... idiot, you know? I'm not dumb just because of my biology.”

“I know,” Scott stepped back to meet his eyes, “I know you're not. I'm sorry. I thought it was like the Lydia thing but in reverse, I didn't realize it was something bad.”

“I _never_ made Lydia feel like I was a threat. He did that to me. He made me feel like I was _doomed.”_

“You're not,” Scott stated firmly, “You're not, he's never getting his hands on you.”

“We made efforts to avoid him following us, but we don't know if it worked. That's the nearest town. I'm not even sure if there's one we can reach without passing through it. We're going to have to go back.”

“Not Mischief,” Scott stated firmly.

“No, not Mischief. You need to go next anyway.”

Derek explained things to Scott as the pack's acceptance of his needs calmed him down. He ended up washing in the creek with Mischief, then collapsed under a tree in exhaustion since he hadn't slept a wink during the trek back. It was the last decent sleep he would get for some time.


	23. Chapter 23

Derek woke up to the feel of firm hands shaking him, and grasped at them in terror. The room was dark and hot, stifling in the summer heat, and it played on the memories and nightmares that haunted him. Fire. Smoke. The sounds of screams. People dying slowly as their werewolf side kept them alive in the smokey building just long enough to suffer the flames instead. This was the third night he'd been shaken awake and then soothed until he could sleep again. Mischief negotiated the darkened room to fetch a cloth, wet it, and press it to his hot brow. He calmed in increments as Scott kept his hand over Derek's heart, and Derek's over his. Talking him down. Bringing him back.

“Feel my heartbeat and take slow breaths with me. You're here with us. Breathe.” Scott's voice sounded so tired, but he wasn't angry despite the new nightly routine, “Here with your pack. Breathe. Your mate and your future child. Breathe.”

On and on he went until Derek's heart stopped pounding in his chest and he began to drift off again, cooled and calmed. He felt like a selfish fool. Mischief was facing a threat and _Derek_ was the one having nightmares! He feared it was foreshadowing of events to come, that soon this Matthew creature would come and burn down his home with his beloved and pack inside. That Derek would be left outside again, banging on the wolfsbane barrier, trying to get in; at first to try to rescue them, but later to _join them._ Anything to not be alone.

_We're here with you. Breathe._

There was no shortage of work on a homestead farm. Every day had a routine, and every day the routine was disrupted by something random that required their immediate attention, and then the routine was resumed again. Derek hunted, Mischief foraged and cared for the animals, Derek and Scott minded the fields and any building or repairing needed, Kira minded the homestead and her small child.

Melissa went with Mischief to forage, gave Kira assistance with the baby, helped with the homestead, and generally was their beta. She talked about having someone younger to help her, of finding packs to merge with so they weren't so very alone out there. Ideally a pack would have more betas than alphas and omegas, but theirs was lopsided and it stressed the alphas who felt they couldn't protect their omegas _and_ work the farm as needed. They worried about raising children so far away from the rest of the world. So far the areas around them were quiet and there were large gaps- designated wild lands for foraging and hunting and moon runs- between the available homesteads. Someone had moved in a few kilometers away only to move out immediately after when their barn was taken out by a tornado. They had had no loss of life, but the idea that there was an entire season where the sky came down to visit wasn't something they had prepared to deal with. So far Derek's pack had been lucky. The tornadoes had missed them each time, but they had come close enough to throw a log through the barn like an arrow.

Mischief's chickens had _thrived_ , despite the occasional raid by a hungry fox. So had his ducks. He'd sexed and tagged the new group, and as far as they were concerned the barn and newly built chicken house was home. It was relatively safe from the predators who did their best to break in, had water nearby, and lots of food. If the mallards vanished close to winter, they weren't particularly bothered because pair bonds didn't last for more than a season.

Fall came finally, and Derek's beautiful mate was so big with child he couldn't stand without help. He was never without Melissa anymore, but Kira's babe was starting on solids so she was able to do more work. Mischief talked about staggering pregnancies so they could avoid having two babies at the same time without enough betas around to help. At least Kira had thrived, and was now able to do more than her fair share of work when needed. She never complained and Scott was obviously proud of her. So was Derek. He regretted ever judging and dismissing her as a pretty delicate thing. She was sturdy and proud and strong, just like Mischief was.

Derek, however, was a coward. He was terrified. Here he was, a broken man, who had nightmares at least once a week, and he was about to be a _father._ Mischief was his everything, his beautiful goldmine, and their cub should be his nugget of gold, but Derek didn't believe he could dig deep enough to mine them. He felt weak and pathetic, and that became all the more clear each time Mischief pushed himself to his feet with a heavy huff, waddled around the room, and then paused to take slow breaths as the pain surged through his belly.

“Still false contractions,” Mischief sighed, shaking his head, “I swear, we're going to have to cut this baby out.”

“You aren't even late,” Melissa scolded, “Stop scaring Derek.”

  
_I'm scared enough already._

“Pfft, he's fine! I'm the one hurting! Someone rub my feet!”

Mischief sat at their kitchen table and began dicing vegetables, not really expecting anyone to do anything about his feet. Derek, however, had finished mending the fence outside and come in for a snack. He was done eating and had the time, so he made a bee-line for Mischief, climbed beneath the table, and started in on his feet. Mischief _moaned_ , and Derek missed his body. He kissed his knee as he rubbed the soles of his feet, wondering if Mischief were receptive to touch. His mate opened his legs a bit so Derek started kissing up one thigh, hoping he could get a bit of loving in before the baby was born. It had been weeks with Mischief so sore that Derek didn't try to approach him. He knew Mischief would never say no to him, but Derek didn't want to put him in a position of having to deal with uncomfortable sex just to relieve his mate. Derek was thinking that giving _Mischief_ a bit of pleasure, without reciprocation required, might make him less uncomfortable.

“Mm, that's nice,” Mischief sighed, the knife never faltering on the cutting board above.

Derek was nearly to Mischief's pert little cock when he smelled blood. He paused, his first thought that Mischief had cut his hand, but Mischief was still chopping away and not commenting. A moment later, while Derek was just starting to nuzzle into Mischief's balls, moisture hit his chin. Lots of it. And it _stank._

Derek hit his head on the table jumping out from beneath Mischief's skirts and Mischief yelped for a different reason.

  
“Melissa! This baby is coming _now!”_

“Your water broke?” She asked, dropping what she was doing to rush to his side.

“Well, I didn't pee my skirts!” Mischief declared.

“Did I hurt you?” Derek asked in alarm, wiping at the blood and sticky fluids that had gotten on his chin and neck.

“No, it's just my waters,” Mischief shook his head, but before he could keep talking the first honest contraction hit him and he screamed, eyes wide and horrified, “Oh my GOAT! IS THIS WHAT I'VE BEEN HELPING ANIMALS GO THROUGH?!”

“You'll be fine,” Melissa's voice sounded done with him already, “Derek! Birthing mat!”

Derek ran to obey while Kira came in from outside with Scott hot on her tail. They'd heard the commotion and were ready to assist with the birth.

“Animals are penned,” Scott told Mischief so he wouldn't worry, but his last thought was the animals at this point.

“I'M GONNA TEAR IN HALF!” Mischief screamed, “GET ME TO MY NEST!”

Kira gave him a disgusted look, apparently wishing he'd had the dignity she had, but Mischief didn't _do_ dignified. He did flailing and screaming, and that was exactly what his delivery was like. The baby was crowning within an hour, nothing like the long day of labor Kira had withstood. He didn't squat down to deliver her while being held by his pack, he gripped Derek's shoulders, dropped low, and made Melissa catch her as she flew out of him at top speed. Then he dropped the afterbirth as if he were absolutely _done_ with the entire thing. They hadn't had a chance to set up a stew for him, so Kira wrapped it in cordage with some rosemary, skewered it, and stuck it in the fire to cook. Derek was sure that the smell it put out would give him nightmares that night. Derek washed Mischief's body while Scott took his pain and Kira hurried about to help Melissa with the new baby.

“It's a girl, by the way,” Melissa panted as she dropped down to check Mischief's body for tearing, “And you did tear, but it's not in half, you silly thing. How many animals did you tell Kira you'd help deliver?”

“Shut up. I hate you all.” Mischief told them, then promptly fainted.

Derek _lost it._ Scott ended up punching him to calm him down and Melissa made him sit in a chair and drink tea while she got Mischief's compress in place and Scott moved him to the bed. Kira brought the baby to Mischief and got her latched while Mischief's eyes fluttered awake. Derek was dismissed from his time out and allowed to wrap himself around his mate and child.

“Holy shit, we made a person,” Mischief breathed, touching the baby while she made greedy sounds against his teat.

“Don't swear in front of the baby,” Derek scolded lightly, “She has your nose.”

“Her nose is smushed.”

“Still your nose.”

Derek buried his face in Mischief's neck and let a few tears drop. It had all happened so fast that he hadn't really had a chance to be as scared as he had been building up to. Mischief had clawed him more than once, so he'd been half defending himself throughout. He'd nearly lost an eye. Now there was a tiny baby with dark hair and a squished face who was determined to drain every drop from Mischief's chest she could.

“What if I don't have enough milk?” Mischief worried.

“I still have some,” Kira reminded him, “Liam is nearly weened.”

Mischief's shaking was subsiding, the shock wearing off as they plied him with tea and his spitted afterbirth. He complained that it tasted _awful_ , but devoured it for the calories nonetheless. Then he slept, exhausted despite the short labor, or perhaps because of it. Derek helped the baby switch sides and stared down at her in wonder as she contentedly fell asleep with milk all over her little bow lips.

“Hello there, Talia,” Derek whispered, “Welcome home. I'll... I'll do better this time.”


	24. Chapter 24

It felt like that should have been where things evened out for them. The place in a story where the epilogue would happen, and they'd flash forward to ten years hence and a full house of kids and the farm thriving. Mischief seemed to think so, but Derek had more life experience than he did and was waiting for the fallout that came with too much good luck. The weather had been good, if painfully hot in the summer, their farm thriving, and their neighbors peaceful. There simply could _not_ be that much good without the balance of something awful happening. So he stayed on high alert, although his nightmares were slowly weening back down again. He was expecting Matthew to show up, or their baby to fall to some horror in the wilds, or an attack from their so far peaceful neighbors over the lands the government had stolen from them that the Hale-McCalls now lived on.

Derek's hyper vigilance was why he was so very tense when a carriage flew by at top speed, pulled by four donkeys being pushed to move at a rate they didn't prefer. Derek immediately filed everyone inside despite their protests that they were busy working.

“That was our neighbors,” Mischief pointed out, “We know them. They're fine.”

“We met them _once_ during a full moon and they cornered you. We don't _know_ them,” Derek argued, “And they looked like they were running from something.”

“Or to something,” Mischief pointed out.

“Inside!” Derek flashed his reds, Mischief flashed black back, but obediently went inside where he sat by the fire to nurse Talia and grumble irritably.

“We're almost at winter and I'm _inside_ instead of prepping the barn. Unbelievable. Just because a wagon went by.”

Derek ignored his complaints and set about peering out a window that he tilted up to spy on the road. Sure enough, an hour passed and the wagon came slowly back and stopped at their home.

“I knew it,” Derek growled, “Scott! Get ready!”

Scott gave Derek a baffled look and glanced around himself. He settled on putting on his coat. Derek rolled his eyes so hard it hurt his head. Someone jumped off the wagon and headed for them, looking cautious and with his claws out. Derek didn't recognize him from the group who had greeted them before.

“They look worried,” Mischief stated from a different window he'd propped open to peer out of.

“Get away from the window!” Derek ordered, “Fuck's sake, Mischief!”

“Why are you allowed to swear and look out windows?” Mischief whined, but left the window and joined Kira where she was checking her sword for damage from storage.

“Mind the babies,” She told him.

“Why am I minding the babies?!” Mischief threw his arms up in frustration.

“You aren't trained to fight,” She told him.

“Neither is Scott!” Mischief pointed at him angrily.

“He's an alpha,” She scrunched up her nose, knowing it was a silly argument.

Mischief didn't even bother to argue with that, just gesturing at her face to indicate her expression. He did, thankfully, put his own cub into his basket woven basinet beside Kira's carved wooden one and planted himself in front of them.

“I'm not minding them. I'm _protecting_ them. There's a difference,” Mischief grumbled.

Melissa stood by Mischief's side, looking terrified and holding a kitchen knife.

“You have claws,” Mischief whispered.

“Yeah, but I never _use_ them,” She replied back, stinking of fear.

“Do you... do you stab people often?” Mischief wondered, face scrunched up adorably.

Derek huffed and watched the man who was looking over their cabin with a distrustful expression on his face. He finally returned to the front door and knocked hesitantly. Scott opened it before Derek could stop him, tell him not to, or throw him across the room like he deserved.

“Hi!” Scott chirped.

“We're all going to die,” Derek told Mischief.

Mischief snickered, “Have you _met_ Scott?”

“Greetings,” The stranger stated formally, “I'm from the-”

“The Ind*ans!” Scott grinned, “Mischief said he met you and you were funny! He's a real funny guy, too. Is everything okay? You were really pushing those donkeys hard.”

“Someone stole our horses,” He stated, apparently stumped by Scott's cheery face.

“That's _awful!”_ Scott stated, face a mask of concern, “We didn't see anyone come through here, and we'd have known if horses did. Kira and Derek are our best trackers. We'll go back to the scene with you and help you track the thieves.”

“That's... that was years ago,” the man gave his head a shake as if trying to clear his head, “I came to see your neighbors for a different reason. Where are the Carlesons?”

“Was that their family name?” Scott shook his head sadly, “I'm so sorry for your loss. We didn't know you knew each other or we'd have come to you first. Can you name all of them? We'd love to mark the grave.”

“We were of an agreement,” The man replied, “We weren't close. Their cabin seems to be... _your_ cabin now.”

The suspicion was clear in his tone, but Scott plowed right over it while Derek stared at him in horror and Mischief grinned broadly from the cribs. It occurred to Derek that Mischief, Melissa, and the babies were _very visible_ from the door, so he moved over to them to stand in front protectively.

“When we realized that they'd been dead for so long, and no one had buried them and stuff, we went over there and took care of their bodies. We took a lot of their stuff, which we understand if you want some of, and yeah. We pillaged the cabin. They had hewn logs and we didn't have a cabin built yet. I realize that's a bit morbid, but... well, they didn't need it and we had a pregnant omega at the time.”

“Hi!” Kira chirped happily, waving at him from where she stood with her sword in one hand.

The man gave her an uncomfortable wave and the refocused on Scott again.

“A pregnant omega is why we were going to them,” He stated, “My mate has... narrow hips. The Carlesons helped us with his last birth as they had a midwife with them. My mate has gone into labor and is struggling. Is there another midwife nearby? One who helped you?”

“No, we gave birth here at home, but we can help you,” Mischief spoke up, leaning around Derek, “I deliver animals, my own and Kira's babies, and Melissa is a nurse. She helped deliver ours and many other babies.”

“I'm qualified to be a midwife,” She spoke up, elbowing Derek out of the way despite his half-uttered protests, “Is he here with you? How far along is he?”

Derek was about to protest, but the man at the door did it for him.

“That's not necessary,” He stepped backwards at a fast pace, nearly toppling off the porch, “I'm sorry to have bothered you all.”

“Wait!” Melissa and Scott followed him out of the house, Mischief and Kira hot on his heels, and Derek was left standing in front of his child and Kira's and feeling absolutely torn. He couldn't protect them _all_ and they were just walking out the door into a possible trap!

Derek could hear them arguing with the man, and trying to get him to accept help, and then the most heartbreaking sound was heard. An omega keen was the sound made by an omega in immediate, life threatening distress. Mischief had made it when Matthew was stalking him, which was what made Derek take his fears so seriously. It was now made by a stranger, but the masculine tone to it had Derek picturing Mischief anyway.

All conversation ended. The entire group ran for the carriage, including Derek whose instincts demanded he care for omegas before cubs. Once he was by the carriage he jerked himself backwards and towards the cabin again, fighting his instincts to make sure he stayed where he was _needed_ instead of where his brain thought he should be. Mischief was needed for that omega's care, not Derek. Derek was going to step outside of his normal role and mind the babies this time.

The omega was carried into their cabin by the group on a blanket they used like a stretcher. He was pale to the point of waxen, shaking from head to toe, and trying to stop himself from baring down when he clearly could not. Narrow hips weren't the problem.

He was _human._


	25. Chapter 25

“Mischief! Get the kit!”

“Already got it!”

“Kira! Soap!”

“Here!”

Melissa stated, “I don't know what customs your people have, and there's no time now to make a birth plan. I promise I'll respect them next time. For now I need to make sure that there _is_ a next time.”

“The Carlesons knew our wishes,” The man started, but Melissa interupted him.

“What was your name, honey?”

“Call me Bear. But-”

“The Carlesons aren't here. I am. And in werewolf births the betas take the pain while the omegas do the hard work and push a baby out. We only have me, so I'll be delivering, Mischief will assist, and these useless alphas and Kira will take his pain.”

“If it comes to a choice,” Bear's voice sounded strangled, “Save the omega.”

Derek and Scott gaped and Kira paused while spreading out the birthing mat and gave him a sad look.

“I know that seems odd,” Bear pleaded, “I know white people do not love their omegas, but _my people do._ We do not wish to lose a child, but at least another can be made. No one can replace my Brian.”

“Right,” Melissa nodded, “Boys and Kira: brace yourselves. This is going to be draining for everyone. We need to move _now.”_

Mischief and Melissa scrubbed his belly, washed the water away with hot water Kira had heated quickly, and then passed the knife to Mischief.

“I... what?”  
  


“Animal husbandry keeps the mother alive before the baby,” She stated, “My training is to hack him up and save the child.”

“I've never done this on a human! Or even a werewolf!”

“You're running out of _time!”_ She snapped, and Mischief looked down to see that Brian had fainted away.

Mischief swore, leaned forward to study his belly, and shouted for more light. Melissa ran for the windows, throwing them all open and lighting every lantern they had. Mischief studied his belly for a moment, running his fingers over the distended abdomen, and then sliced him open with three slow strokes, skin and fat, muscle, womb. Bear let out a choked sound, pulling Brian's pain even though he'd fainted away. He was sobbing as Melissa reached down, down, down, to tug the baby from the top half of the birth canal. She pulled it up by it's legs and placed it over her knees, leaning forward to continue assisting Mischief.

Mischief's instincts were clearly at war. He glanced at the baby repeatedly while trying to fumble the womb closed, then finally spoke up harshly.

“Kira, get the baby washed. It's a distraction.”

“Thank you!” Kira breathed in relief.

It was instinct, of course. Omegas were hardwired to care for their pups over anyone else, including themselves. To tell Mischief to pay attention to another omega, especially one he didn't know, over a weakened child was impossible. Kira sliced the cord and took the baby quickly to the fireside to warm it, rub life into it if needed, and wash it up if it were alive... or otherwise.

The sound of soft cries filled the room, quickly silenced as Kira put the baby to her breast.

“Melissa, pinch that- thank you. Give me the thread? Thanks.” Mischief muttered as he worked, swearing at Brian and coaxing him to life, “Kira! Don't use up all your milk! Take this afterbirth, wash it _thoroughly,_ boil it, add in your breastmilk, and mash it into something drinkable! The less water to boil the better!”

“Ew!” Kira announced, but scooped it up and did as she was told.

Mischief worked tirelessly for several minutes and then froze. Bear let out a broken sound at the same moment.

“Mischief?” Melissa asked, “Can you revive a human?”

“I-I-I don't know!”

“There's nothing to lose,” Derek stated as he heard the heartbeat flutter away.

Mischief focused, eyes turning black, “Melissa, take the thread and hold his belly shut. You're going to feel it, too. All of you will.”

“Feel what?” Bear asked.

“Life,” Derek breathed.

“You're going to turn him?” Bear spat out, “No, you can't! He doesn't want to be turned! He'd rather die!”

“Then it's a good thing I'm just going to hit him with a lightning bolt,” Mischief replied.

Mischief sent a small shockwave through the human and Derek felt his body jolt. He couldn't have kept taking pain if he'd wanted to. It felt like someone had stabbed his heart!

“What have you done?” Bear wailed.

Mischief shocked Brian again and this time his heart fluttered to life for a moment.

“Once more, a bit stronger,” Mischief gasped, drenched in sweat and nearly as pale as Brian.

This time his heart started up and stayed going for a moment. Melissa looked torn between holding Brian's guts in and helping him breathe while Mischief collapsed on the floor.

“Breathe for him!” Derek shouted at Bear.

Bear launched himself to Brian's mouth, pushing in air while Derek forced it out. Brian gasped on his own and Melissa began to stitch furiously. For a moment there was silence beyond the babies softly crying in the distance- the others had started up with the new one- and Brian's shaky breaths. His eyes were glazed and soon fell shut again. Mischief didn't move, but Derek could hear his steady heartbeat and knew him to be simply exhausted. Bear was weeping as he stroked Brian's hair, taking his pain to the point of draining himself dry.

“Ease up,” Derek insisted, “He's got us, too.”

“He hurts _so much.”_

“I know, but you need to be alive for him afterwards.”

“You wouldn't understand,” He insisted.

Derek gripped his arm gently, “We love our omegas, too.”

“Done!” Melissa spoke in exhaustion, “Kira, how's that stuff coming along?”

“It's almost done,” She replied.

“The second it cools, feed it to him. We'll have to work it down his throat. He needs his blood back,” Melissa breathed, standing up and washing the blood off of her arms at the basin, “Wrap him up for now. We need to ward off shock.”

“I think it's a bit late for that,” Bear stated, lifting Brian gently and walking him to the bed, “My beautiful love.”

“You have a daughter,” Kira told him gently after they had settled in. She brought the baby over and laid her on Brian's chest, “Nursing might rouse him.”

Bear helped the baby latch on and laid wrapped around Brian while he laid far too still. Derek got Mischief up from the floor and washed the blood off of him, tucking him in on Brian's other side to keep him warm. He figured in the face of strangers another omega wasn't too scary.

“How long does it take humans to heal?” Derek asked Melissa softly.

“A long, long time,” She told him, “We might have them for the winter if we don't send for the rest of his pack.”

“I know where they came from,” Derek told her, “I'll go get them. You okay here with just Scott and Kira?”

“We're fine,” She assured him.

Derek shrugged out of his clothes, transformed, and sniffed his way back to where the carriage came from. He knew the general distance and direction, but not the actual location so it took him over an hour to find them even with him moving fast. Once he reached them he transformed once more and stepped into a small settlement.

One large barn, chicken coop, and a pavilion stood in the center, and around it in a big circle were the houses. They weren't built beneath the tree like their cabin was, and the reason was clear. Many trees were toppled over in the distance from the tornadoes that regularly plagued there are in the spring and summer. Beyond that were their fields, and they had far more land than Scott and Derek.

The woman from the first time they had met- the pack alpha- exited the barn and headed for Derek with eyes narrowed. She showed her features as she approached him, claws extended in threat. Derek belatedly realized he smelled like their packmate's _blood._

“We're trying to keep Brian alive,” Derek told her quickly, making her go still as he put out his hands to show her he meant no harm, “He's in bad shape. Bear is fine, and the baby delivered.”

“Where are the Carlesons?”

“Dead,” Derek replied, and then remembered Scott's words, “I'm sorry for your loss.”

She rolled her eyes dramatically, “Take me there.”

Derek and Amadahy talked along the way about how best to move Brian once he was able to move, especially if it snowed before then. The wagon would work as long as they were able to move it, but if not than Amadahy would provide them with food as compensation for their assistance and to make sure that they weren't burdened by the extra people for the winter.

Derek paused just around the corner from the house and sniffed the air, “Do you... do you smell pepper and vinegar?”

“Someone must be cooking,” She replied, continuing on, but Derek fled for the house in a panic with a roar of challenge.

Mischief was on the porch feeding Talia in the fresh air where the scent of strangers wouldn't disturb her. He gave Derek a confused look as he showed up in a rage and then stood up to narrowly gaze around himeslf.

“What is it?”

“I smelled vinegar and pepper,” Derek told him angrily.

“Kira is cooking some of our pickled food for our guests. Brian still has cravings.”

Derek deflated, “I'm so tired of being on guard.”

“So relax,” Mischief pointed out, “He's not going to show up when you expect him. If you let your guard down you'll get it over with faster.”

“How is that better?” Derek huffed.

“It's not,” Mischief shrugged, “But at least it isn't as bad as you being constantly on edge and stinking of fear. Talia's going to get worse anxiety than me.”

So stated, Mischief took their sleeping cub inside while Derek felt like several levels of shit. Amadahy gave him a look as she passed him to head inside that spoke volumes of what she thought of them both.


	26. Chapter 26

The cruelty of a near wilderness world on humans was a well documented occurrence. Thousands of humans died in the frontier while settling the Americas. Some in needless war with the indigenous people, and some at the hands of the wild world they entered. Humans were susceptible to disease, were weaker against the elements, often died in childbirth, and even if they made it past all that had shorter life spans. In the 1800's the Native American population was estimated to be between 2 and 18 million. By the 1890's they had declined to only 250,000.* One Native American human having to face an emergency surgery via werewolves who knew little of their anatomy had few chances of surviving, let alone being able to live a full and functional life. Brian's chances were slim to none.

But not this time.

This time the human and his baby girl lived. This time he got to be carried into the wagon, his doting mate thanking them enthusiastically while Melissa demanded he contact them at _least_ two months before birth next time. This time they rode into the distance with hope for a future in both the carrier and the child Mischief had delivered.

Next time, however, could be a completely different story.

*real estimate. Dobyns 1983


	27. Chapter 27

It turned out Mischief was right. They couldn't live each day in expectation of attack from an enemy, sniffing the air for him, constantly on alert. As the seasons turned into years they grew... not quite complacent; not with tornado season and the heats they spent locked in the barn to stop them from having cubs every single season. For ten years their lives were much of the same. Plant, harvest, repeat for a second harvest, preserve food, breed animals, sell animals in the town, hunt, repairs, winter and lots of sex, avoid or embrace heat, have a baby the following fall.

It was a good life, an honest life, and one they were content to continue as they grew together. Baby Talia became child Talia, and was followed by Cora and Joshua. Kira brought them Kaiko and Kurama. There was one other baby who was _almost_ born, but a tornado took out their home and the damages to Kira's body while pregnant... they didn't speak of it. They rebuilt, this time away from the tree line like they'd been taught, and Mischief bought cabbages in town so Kira could use their leaves to dry up her milk.

Change came in the form of family. More family. In their tenth year the Yukimuras showed up on two beautiful horses and stayed with them for a few weeks in the summer. They had sold Scott's title and were doing quite well for themselves with a bit of property in the city. Her father was a teacher and her mother continued her work as the town's doctor. While they visited her father wrote up a curriculum and gave Kira information on how to educate their little troupe of children. Noshiko shed a tear when they said goodbye, overwhelmed at the joy she saw in her child and grandchildren. She even hugged Scott, whispering something into his ear that he refused to share with the others who had been too far off to overhear. He looked proud and content.

They took letters with them for Mischief's parents, who he kept up a correspondence with along with sending them furs to sell in their town for extra money. Instead of responding to his letter with another of their own, they sent him some _one._

A quiet young man, a beta, who showed up with his arm in a sling, guided by the mail carrier who came further than usual to deliver him to their door. He was a werewolf without a pack and his arm hadn't healed despite it having been broken for over a month. He didn't speak. Didn't even tell them his name. He just showed up with a letter from Mischief's parents and sat down on their porch to wait for their decision.

_Dearest Mischief,_

_We are doing quite well and are finally starting to actually save money. Per your advice, we are trying to buy one of the lots beside your own. The one you pillaged is already sold, so we couldn't buy that one. Can you send us the numbers on the others?_

_Enclosed, please find a young man whose name is unknown to us. He was found locked in a root cellar by his alpha father, who has been abusing him for years. We're not even sure he can speak. He needed to leave town, so we asked the mail carrier to guide him to you directly and Noshiko paid quite handsomely for it. She said it was worth it to ensure his safety. We know you could use another beta on your lands, and he needs a safe pack fast before he becomes a gamma._

_Love,  
Mom and Dad_

“Okay, so he's nameless, maybe can't speak, and your parents helped him?” Mischief gave Kira a shocked look, “I mean, I know they're not as cold as I originally thought, but they _paid money_ to help him. That's kind of awesome of them.”

“You just don't get our culture,” Kira rolled her eyes, but she wasn't teaching it to her cubs so there was no changing Mischief's perception either, “Hey there Mister, you can come in?”

The young man stood up and headed inside, staring around himself quietly at their big home. Their new one was identical to the first, since they'd been quite happy with it. The upstairs was split into two areas one for the older cubs and one for the parents so they could make love in peace. Melissa stayed downstairs in the pack bed, which they all utilized as a cuddle spot after a full moon, as a general sitting area, and for occasional puppy piles. They had started talking about building an omega safe zone in case one or more of their cubs were omegas, but so far it hadn't happened and they weren't sure how to go about it. Bars weren't readily available in the woods and a wooden cage would be easily broken open. They might just have to break with tradition and keep their omegas close during a full moon or buy a cage, which would be quite the set back for them.

“I guess you'll be staying with me,” Melissa stated, giving his arm a gentle touch.

The young man winced away from her, fear flashing through his eyes, and Melissa looked as if she wanted to murder his father.

“Come on,” Mischief smiled at him gently, “I'll show you around.”

“NO!” Scott spat out, eyes wide as he shouldered Mischief aside, “I will.”

“Uh...” Mischief gaped after Scott who quickly grabbed the beta's uninjured hand and began leading him around.

“This is our fireplace. It's great for cooking and keeps the _whole_ place warm. That's the pack bed, but Melissa uses it every night. Come on up here, this is our loft area...”

“What just happened?” Mischief asked, frowning after him.

“Don't omegas usually great guests?” Kira asked.

“Yeah, they do,” Mischief grumbled, “Scott's all liberal and shit, but this is weird.”

“Shit!” Claudia giggled.

“Okay, young lady!” Mischief shooed her back out the door, “Get outside and mind the chickens!”

For the next few days the young man spent a lot of time staring around himself and looking _broken._ He didn't eat much, was painfully thin, and shied away from everyone. He was even afraid of the ducks. According to Mischief only ducks had a reason to fear other ducks. Melissa adopted him immediately. He let her hold him at night, much to Scott's irritation since he'd been trying to get him to come up and sleep with the couples upstairs. Mischief thought that was odd, because the whole point of them having two beds upstairs was so that the couples could fuck when they wanted to without an audience. Adding the new guy to one of their beds defeated the whole purpose. However, when Mischief asked him why he wanted to do that and which bed he'd be in Scott got evasive quickly and Kira looked pained.

They thought the new guy was rather useless for a bit, but apparently he was absorbing things around him. After a few days of vacant staring he started to help out around the farm. He stuck with the kids for a day, following them around and letting the little chatterboxes instruct him in all things homestead. Hiei in particular became _very_ attached to him, constantly holding his bad hand and leading him about by it despite Mischief and Melissa telling him not to touch the arm that wouldn't heal. However, by the end of the day the new guy sat down on the porch, unwrapped his arm, and stared down at it.

“Hey there, buddy,” Mischief sat down beside him, “How's that feeling?”

He nodded without answering.

“It's better?”

Another nod.

“Your body was refusing to heal it for a while. Trauma can do that. What got you going again?”

He was silent for so long that Mischief thought that he might not answer, but then he spoke in a soft voice.

“Isaac.”

“Is that your name?”

“Isaac,” He pointed to himself.

“Got a last name?”

He shrugged.

“Okay,” Mischief nodded, “Welcome to our homestead _officially_ , Isaac. I'm sorry your life has sucked, but it's going to be better now.”

“Yeah,” He nodded.

“Mischief?” Scott sounded tense as he stepped up onto their porch. He was filthy from working outside in the field and stank of manure, “Can I talk to you?”

“Sure,” Mischief stepped down, hand on his lower back to support his weight. He was heavily pregnant, much more so than usual and worried he might be carrying twins. Derek's family tended to have them, apparently.

“Uh, not here,” Scott stammered, leading him towards the barn.

Kira was in the barn so Scott spun around and dragged Mischief to the chicken coop. Three of their kids were in there, Talia caring for the chickens while she taught the younger two to do same... or rather to just not trample eggs for now. They reversed out of there and headed for the _outhouse_ when Mischief put a stop to his frantic search for privacy.

“How about a road trip with my bestie,” Mischief huffed, “I'm too pregnant to be dragged all over the farm without getting work done and I want to tell my parents how Isaac is doing... and that his name is Isaac.”

“That's a great idea,” Scott breathed out slowly, looking more relaxed, “I'll get a donkey saddled and pack up a few things to take with us. You use the outhouse before we go.”

Mischief waddled back out the road and Derek gave him a slow kiss goodbye after helping him onto the back of the donkey. Mischief enjoyed the freedom that came with being a claimed omega. He got to go to town, could go alone if he wanted, but never had, and could even get a job if he wanted to. Of course, doing so seemed pointless when he needed to help at the homestead.

After a few miles Scott let out a heavy sigh and fell in beside Mischief to give him a guilty look.

“I have a really, really big problem, Mischief.”

“What's wrong, brother?” Mischief worried with a frown, “Did you get Kira pregnant out of season again?”

“It was _one time!_ No, no, it's _worse_ than that. You know the new guy?”

“Do you mean Isaac or that other guy?” Mischief wondered.

“Very funny,” Scott huffed, “I'm freaking out here!”

“Okay, go on,” Mischief sighed, “What's your big dilemma and does it have to do with you wanting to share a _bed_ with someone you just met?”

“Yeah, it does,” Scott struggled, “Remember when I first met Kira?”

“How could I forget?” Mischief laughed, “She emerged before me and you _lost your damn mind._ It was like I didn't exist anymore.”

“I'm still sorry about that, but you didn't choose Derek by scent. You two had an arranged marriage. Kira is my _mate_ by _scent._ The moment she emerged I knew that she was meant to be mine, and I was meant to be hers. She completes me.”

“That's so sexy,” Mischief blushed, “Derek loves my scent. He says he knew by mine as well. He'd had other omegas, but I was _his.”_

“Okay, so _he_ knows, but I'm talking to you so listen for a change, okay?”

“Fine.”

“Isaac smells like mine, too.”

Mischief was silent a moment, waiting for further revelation. It didn't come. Scott walked beside him with his head down in shame and Mischief stared at him and then shrugged.

“Okay? So?”

“So?!” Scott gave him an incredulous look, “I'm mated to KIRA!”

“Again. So?”

“So how can I just... be attracted to another person?!”

“You're alive?” Mischief shrugged, “We omegas are taught from the time we're young that we are possessions, Scott. Most people have more than one possession. It's not unheard of that an alpha will find more than one mate. There _are_ more omegas than alphas, after all, and without being claimed our lives are _awful._ So if we want our fellow omegas to be okay, we might have to share alphas.”

“He's not an omega, he's a beta.”

“So? Betas are even more plentiful than alphas or omegas. I'm sure some of them need alphas, too?”

“How do I _tell her_. I don't want her to feel like she's not enough for me. She is. He's just... he's another part of me.”

“You think she doesn't know? Didn't you wonder why I wasn't shocked? Scott, you haven't exactly been subtle.”

“You think she'll be okay with it?”

“You'd have to ask her that,” Mischief shrugged, “She was brought up with the idea she'd be a rich guys trophy mate. She expected to be a second or even third wife. So maybe she'll shrug it off the way I would if Derek brought another home, or maybe she'll be furious because she thought she escaped that fate and now she hasn't. Either way it will be something you have to deal with if he stays.”

“He has no where else to go,” Scott spoke softly.

“Then you have to figure out how to make this a peaceful place for him. That might mean not having him in your bed, Scott.”

“I know,” He breathed out slowly, “I just don't know how I'll be around him _every day and night_ if I can't _have_ him.”

“Same way alphas were around Kira and I before we were claimed without having us,” Mischief shrugged, “Just because you want someone doesn't mean having them is the right choice.”

“You're conveniently forgetting the part where unclaimed omegas were _never_ allowed to be alone without being literally locked up,” Scott stated in a flat tone.

“No I'm not,” Mischief huffed, “I meant that we'll treat him like an omega. Melissa, Kira, and I will accompany him at all times.”

“That will be pretty obvious, don't you think?”

“He's pretty traumatized, Scott. It will look like we're helping him adjust and heal. At least for a while. Hopefully after a while you'll be able to keep your hands to yourself like a big boy.”

Scott sighed heavily but didn't argue his point. The journey into town was long, but after a few years they'd found a few trails that shortened it to a day and a half. It took them off the main road, but they were frontier people. They weren't afraid of a bit of backwoods.

They arrived in town as usual, stopped in at the Sheriff's office to ask about any threats in the area, hit up the pub for a whiskey for Scott, and then spent most of the day selling their goods. Their last stop was the Post Office. For years Mischief had dreaded passing this spot, but Matthew no longer sat outside the station offering to draw pictures for people sending letters out. Mischief knew he had a shop across town, but they never went to the services district.

Mischief bought some paper and spent some time writing out his letter, which he normally did in advance when Scott didn't hurriedly drag him into town. He figured it out, paid the post master, and the man packaged up the furs they were sending to his parents. Mischief looked around to find Scott gone already. He headed down the steps to the street, avoiding the droppings, and went back to the tavern where Scott undoubtedly was spending his time.

Mischief stepped inside, ignoring the wolf whistling that followed his solo entrance, and peered through the smoke to find his brother. Scott was seated at a table with someone partially hidden from view by a crowd of people. Mischief headed for him at a fast step and then froze in horror. He felt the gekkering climb up his throat and clutched at it as if he could stop the scream building in his throat. The room seemed to move in slow motion as Scott turned to him in alarm and the man he was sitting with lifted his eyes to meet Mischief's for the first time in over ten years.

_Is he okay?_

_What happened?_

_Why's he screaming?_

_Did you abduct him?!_

_YOU DON'T SMELL LIKE HIS ALPHA!!_

_Mischief! Mischief! GET IT TOGETHER!_

“Mischief!” Scott shook him until Mischief's eyes refocused on him, “Mischief! You're safe! You're safe! Breathe!”

Scott pushed Mischief's face into his neck and got him breathing in his scent where it was strong. Between that and his alpha voice Mischief went limp in his arms, letting Scott focus on telling those around who were convinced Mischief was being threatened that he was his brother by marriage.

“Really, we live together and everything. His mate is waiting for us. Nothing hinky going on here. Right, Mischief?”

“R-right,” Mischief chattered, his voice still high with a scream that wanted to climb out.

“I was just talking to Matt, and he's cool. Really!”

“Scott, I just want to _go.”_

“Yeah, okay, okay. Sorry, Matt. I don't know why he gets like this.”

“You know omegas,” Matthew's voice set Mischief to gekkering again, “They're always such drama queens. Glad I never got myself tied down to him! Could you imagine? I'd have had to take him to task. Tell Derek to try that, huh?”

“Uh... yeah, sure.”

Mischief felt them moving and let Scott walk him backwards out the door and into the street. He calmed the further they got away from Matthew and his piercing gaze.

“That was seriously not okay, Mischief,” Scott's voice was uncharacteristically harsh.

“Shut up.”

“He was a really nice guy and we could use actual friends outside of our homestead! He has a _business,_ Mischief. He could help us sell stuff!”

“Shut up, Scott.”

“He's not even interested in you anymore! Like you and Lydia, you know? He got over it! You don't have to be afraid of him!”

“SHUT UP!” Mischief shoved back out of Scott's grip and faced off, fighting back tears, “Derek believed me, why can't you?!”

Mischief turned and stomped off as best he could with his full belly and sore, swollen feet. Scott huffed angrily and then stomped back into the tavern. Mischief turned slightly looking cautiously back over his shoulder in disbelief. Scott had been absolutely blind to everything but Kira when he'd fallen for her, and it seemed he'd stumbled into the same situation with Isaac. Mischief was being reasonable and Scott didn't want reasonable. He wanted to get drunk and have someone listen to him vent about how much he wanted to bend Isaac over the nearest surface and do gross things to him. Matt was providing a service that Mischief wasn't willing to provide because he was a planner, not a hopeless romantic.

Mischief stubbornly squared his shoulders and kept his direction. He reached the barn they had paid to leave Charles at for the day, collected him, and climbed on. Scott could find his way back home on his own.


	28. Chapter 28

“Here,” Derek stated softly, handing Isaac a bowl of stew, “Eat up.”

Melissa kept talking about putting meat on his bones, but he was so afraid of everything that it seemed to turn his stomach if he ate more than a few bites a meal. Derek joined Kira and Melissa in pressuring him to eat, and the kids who were speaking were 'helping' as well.

“Yes, eat up, Isaac,” Talia stated in a mothering tone.

“Eat! Eat!” Ichigo dared, banging his hands on the table.

Isaac winced away from his banging and Derek gripped his shoulder to remind him to stop. Isaac couldn't tolerate loud sounds and the kids were just _constantly loud._ He loved his cubs, and Scott and Kira's cubs as well, but they were exhausting. Kira's spawn were practically his own, having raised them side by side with the ones that Mischief had born for him. There was even a rumor in town that Scott and Derek took turns breeding each other's omegas. That wasn't a bad plan in terms of genetics, but it wasn't something that either of them were interested in.

Speaking of interested in, Scott was definitely panting after Isaac and it was making Kira insecure and afraid for her position in his life. Derek planned to take him aside once he and Mischief returned and... get Mischief to explain things to him. No way was Derek touching that mess. Besides, talking anyone into anything wasn't his thing. He was good at glowering and scaring people with his eyebrows. Sadly most of the kids stopped being afraid of them after a couple of years.

The door opened and Scott came in out of the rain, stomping his feet and looking pissed off. And pissed.

“Phew!” Kira waved her hand in front of her face, “How much wolfsbane liquor did you have?!”

“Enough to make running here easy,” Scott snapped angrily, “Where's Mischief?!”

“He isn't with you?” Derek asked in alarm.

“He left me there!” Scott snarled, “Where is he?”

“He hasn't come back yet,” Kira replied, worriedly glancing out towards where it was raining and putting a hand to her abdomen, “I hope there aren't any tornadoes.”

Melissa put her hand on Kira's shoulder comfortingly, “Mischief will be fine. I'm sure he's just delayed by the weather. When did he leave?”

“I dunno,” Scott swayed on his feet a bit.

“You'd better sit down before you fall down,” Kira shoved him towards a chair and Scott grumbled as he collapsed into it.

“I'm going looking for him,” Derek growled, glaring at Scott as he passed him, “Maybe stay here and try not to lose _your_ omega.”

Derek put on his jacket since it was raining so hard, grabbed a jar full of jerky in case Mischief was hungry, and hurried out into the rain. The rain would make things difficult to track Mischief, but he at least knew their route so he should be able to backtrack it and hopefully find Mischief along the way.

His mate was round with child, heavy before his time, he was probably just tired and taking longer since he didn't have anyone helping him get on and off the donkey every time he needed to pee. Derek would find him and carry him home like the precious darling he loved so much. He'd find him.

He'd find him.

He'd find him.


	29. Chapter 29

Mischief could hear Derek's howls of anguish, but he couldn't respond. He had always been embarrassed by his foxy tendency to scream and shriek when emotional, but now he had nothing. No voice. No way to call out to his mate. No way to protect the young moving about frantically in his belly. Moving too much. Causing bands of pain to move across his abdomen. If they stretched towards his back...

Deep breath. Slow breaths. It was so eerie, because he couldn't even hear himself breath. Couldn't hear his own heartbeat. If he threw something it made a sound, but his own body was mute in every way and he couldn't escape his confines.

Mischief was inside of a huge chamber underground, blocked from the moon by some strange rock. If he was kept here over a full moon he'd lose control of his fox, perhaps even his mind. He might hurt his cubs if they were born here. If they survived birth. If they survived _to_ birth.

_Help me!_

_Find me!_

_Derek!_

_PLEASE!_


	30. Chapter 30

Derek had been running through the woods for two days and nights, frantic to find his mate and desperate for him and their cub to be alive. It took him that long to realize that maybe they had returned home, too weak to call him. And maybe the others were too busy to call for him. And maybe...

Derek dragged himself through the door, so exhausted he was shaking, and looked around the main area where Melissa lay curled up with Isaac in the pack bed. Scott was sitting up at the table looking drawn and tense.

“Mischief?” Scott asked hopefully.

Derek shook his head, “He's just... gone.”

Scott stood up, expression tortured, “We'll find him.”

Derek's eyes turned upwards to where their cubs lay curled up in a nest of hay together with blankets and furs to soften their den.

“I can't... I can't do this alone. Not again,” Derek whispered.

“You're not alone,” Scott insisted, standing up and heading for him with his eyes strained, “And he's not gone. We'll find him.”

“I can't even smell him,” Derek sank into the pack bed and leaned over Melissa's slumbering form, hoping for a trace of his scent in the bed they shared during full moons, “It's like he never existed.”

“He'll come back,” Scott insisted.

“He's my whole world. My mate. The carrier of my children.”

“Let's just... sleep for a few hours and try again in the morning-”

“And you _left him.”_

“I... what?”

“What happened?” Derek growled, “Mischief wouldn't just _leave you in town._ He was terrified to be in town alone. What did you do?”

Scott looked terrified, but he didn't pull away as he confessed, “I met up with Matthew and had a few drinks with him. He seemed nice so I tried to get Mischief to chill out about him. He freaked and left.”

“I told you to take his fears _seriously!”_ Derek roared, claws and teeth emerging.

The entire house awoke with various shouts of alarm, children upstairs beginning to cry as Kira ran to them to protect her cubs and... _and Mischief's cubs._

“Derek stop!” Melissa shouted.

“HE HANDED MY MATE OVER TO HIS STALKER!” Derek raged.

“You're _terrifying your beta!”_ Melissa stopped him in his tracks.

Derek froze, raised his head, and saw Isaac pressed against the far wall, his night clothes drenched in urine, his eyes big and wet. Scott was between Derek and Isaac, his stance protective. Guarding his mate. His _other_ mate.

“It's a good thing you've got a _second_ mate since you're going to have to raise my cubs with yours,” Derek growled, turning towards the door again.

“What? Why?” Scott stammered.

“Because I am _never_ going to stop looking for Mischief.”

“Your children don't deserve that!” Melissa hissed.

Derek felt like he'd been stabbed, his heart aching as he heard the soft cries from upstairs. Talia wasn't too old to call out for him yet, and the younger ones were outright weeping. Kira had to hold them back from rushing downstairs to their father. She didn't want them between too raging alphas. Derek blinked back tears.

“What am I supposed to do? He's out there! Somewhere!”

“Go and be with your children for now,” Melissa stepped forward to touch his shoulder gently, “You're exhausted and emotionally destroyed, Derek. Be with your pack. Tomorrow Scott will go with you.”

“Who will protect the pack?” Scott sputtered.

“We will,” She stated, “The betas protect the omegas and cubs when the alphas go to war. Isaac? Wash up and change. No more fear, beta. We have a duty.”

Derek let Melissa and Isaac clean him up while he swayed weakly on his feet. They forced food and drink down his throat, guided him up the steps to the loft, and practically shoved him to the mat his children slept on. They swarmed him, wrapping around him and asking about their mother. Derek pulled them close, kissing their cheeks and breathing in their scent as he nuzzled their hair. He had no answers, and was soon fast asleep despite the noise and clamoring.


	31. Chapter 31

The band of pain was all the way around his body, a vice gripping his torso and squeezing him until every breath was an exercise in willpower. He had never done this alone. No werecreature was meant to. He should have pack nearby, or at least the means to care for his cub once it was born. Instead he was helpless, isolated, afraid. In the distance the smell of vinegar and pepper made him want to vomit.

“He's going into full labor,” The human who smelled of herbs told Matthew, “It won't be long now. My spell will keep him silent throughout, but he's going to be in horrible pain without a pack to drain it. This could kill him.”

“It's his fault he's _infected_ with some alpha's _spawn._ He deserves to suffer,” Matthew growled, “Prepare the next phase, Jennifer.”

“Yes, sir,” She stated, standing and heading for the ladder that would lead to the outside world, “Then you will take me back to Kali?”

“You know my answer.”

She left, taking with her what little hope he had for sympathy. Mischief sobbed helplessly where hey lay on the floor, body clenching, blood and fluids streaming from between his legs. It was too soon. _Months_ too soon. He tried to tell them, but no one could hear him and he doubted they would listen if they could. He was advancing fast. Soon he wouldn't be able to stop himself from pushing, even though every fiber of his being _needed_ to keep his cub safe inside of his body.

“That's it,” Matt whispered, “Force out that _disgusting spawn_ of that _other alpha._ Once it's gone you will be all mine. We'll just... forget your transgressions. I'll be so forgiving that you'll have to realize that I'm the right mate for you. Once the bond breaks and your _filth_ is purged from your body I can claim you as mine. My pretty little fox.”

_He'll kill my cub to break my bond with Derek! This is what he's been waiting for. If my cub is killed by another our bond will sever. There's no way my inner fox can accept a mate that couldn't protect my cubs. He'll be free to claim me by default. The stronger option, but not the safer. Not the one I want, love, need. Not the father of my children. I'll cut out my own womb before I let him breed m..._

_Cut out my..._

_That's it._

_I'm not going to lie here and suffer._

_I'm not going to wait to be rescued._

_Or suffer my labor alone only to be too weak to prevent him from killing my young._

_If I have to go out- if my cub is at risk- if there's no other option- then I'm going out WITH BLOOD ON MY CLAWS!_

Mischief raised his claws with a savage scream that never made a sound and brought them down... across his own body.


	32. Chapter 32

Derek woke up slowly. He was groggy and disoriented, his eyes crusted with sleep and his head throbbing as if he'd had too much aconite wine. For a moment he didn't know where he was, didn't remember why he felt an ache in his chest, and he just shifted a bit and sniffed the air to get his bearings. He was in the cub's room, curled up in their big nest with chubby baby legs and arms poking him all over and more than one child draped entirely over his body. He felt a surge of warmth towards his offspring and Kira's. He might be an alpha but he really and truly loved the little ones. They weren't just a legacy. They were individuals with personalities _already._ They were little people who had taken over the homestead like invaders and stolen away chunks of his heart.

His heart.

_His heart!_

_HIS HEART HAD BEEN STOLEN!!_

Derek came fully awake with a broken sound and the cubs around and over him began to mewl and press against him, instinctively comforting their distraught packmate. Derek sat up and gathered them close, pulling Mischief's cubs close so he could breathe in their scent as he broke down.

“Daddy?” Talia asked, fear in her voice. Liam let out a pained whine, knowning grief when he saw it and starting to cry with Derek. The younger ones didn't quite understand yet. They were just petting at him and muttering the comforting words their omegas said to them when they cried.

“Iz be otay,” Joshua babbled, patting at his face a bit too hard for comfort.

“Let it out, big guy,” Cora insisted, voice proud like Mischief was when his cubs hurt themselves doing something particularly brave and insane that he thought was brilliant.

Kira had come upstairs while he'd been weeping, collecting her youngest toddler and taking him downstairs to use the outhouse since he couldn't wait yet. She came back upstairs after supplying him with porridge to eat downstairs. She sat down on the floor behind him and put her arms around him from behind, laying her head on his shoulder.

“Scott is out looking,” She told him, “You can join him after eating.”

Her words brooked no argument. He didn't try. He just stood up, placing clinging children down and petting their heads with hands that felt too big to have helped create those tiny beings. Talia followed close at his heels while Liam hissed at her not to bother him.

“He's _mourning,_ Talia!”

“No he isn't!” Talia snapped, “My mom is _not_ dead! I would _know!”_

Derek stomped downstairs with a determined heart. Talia was right. They would _know._ They'd feel it. Mischief was alive and they weren't going to give up. First thing Derek was going to do was run at top speed back to the town- that speed would take an hour at most- and slowly slice away layers of Matthew's flesh until he confessed where Mischief was.

Scott had apparently had the same idea, and Derek fought against arguing with him as they began tearing apart the little loft above his shop. The walls were papered with drawings of Mischief. Everything from him petting Charles the donkey to him naked and posed, ready to be taken and bred. They were so exact as to look as if he were standing right in the room in the case of one lifesized drawing, and would be beautiful if they weren't so absolutely terrifying. Matthew's obsession hadn't ended. It had grown into something beyond terrifying.

“We can maybe track his scent?” Scott suggested, “He has to have moved more recently than Mischief. To get food and water?”

“Maybe,” Derek agreed, fist clenched in rage. He didn't have time to argue with Scott, even if he wanted to beat him within an inch of his life. Or further.

“Let's go,” Scott grimaced, “We've got enough of his scent in our nose.”

Derek wanted to sneeze. Vinegar and pepper. It was _overwhelming._ Even his scent screamed _danger._ How had Scott not understood this man was a walking sickness?

They left the town, noses working and eyes peeled for any clues as to where Mischief might be. It was Derek who sniffed out Jennifer, who gave him a slow, appreciative up and down. Derek wasn't interested. He never could be. She might as well have been a leper for all the interest he showed in her. He stepped forward, gripped the human's arm, lifted her above his head, and growled in her face.

“Where. Is. My. Mate?”


	33. Chapter 33

The difficulty with having a silencing spell on you was that you couldn't hear your own child's heartbeat once it had been sliced from your body. He didn't have time to look to see if the baby took a breath and cried. He didn't have time to do _anything,_ because Matthew was bearing down on him and Mischief was starting to shake. He had to keep his adrenaline going. It was what would keep him alive long enough to end Matthew's fucking life. He had no hope of making it home. Walking there with his his body sliced open, guts spilling out, severe blood loss, shock, and a (maybe alive) premature baby to carry? He'd die before he got out of the pit. He was going down, and if he was lucky he'd get to nurse his baby, give the poor thing some comfort before they both died together in a moonless hole in the ground.

First, he had to kill the bastard who had haunted his life. Mischief all but tossed his tiny baby aside, slicing the cord in a quick move so that his continued movements wouldn't hurt his baby any more than an early birth already had. He wasn't strong enough or fast enough with his body breaking down, so he had to use everything around him to make this work. He couldn't stand, wasn't bothering to pull the afterbirth out, wasn't trying to stem the flow of blood. He had no hope left. Only REVENGE.

“What are you doing?!” Matt screamed, lunging at him and trying to push his belly together, “You've eviscerated yourself?! Are you insa-”

Mischief's wrapped the cord around Matthew's neck and twisted it, holding him in place with one shaking hand so he had a chance to start slicing with the other. Matthew's screams went silent like Mischief's had under the spell, but his facial expressions were satisfying enough as Mischief slowly sliced layers of his flesh away like filleting a fish. Easy as spreading butter once he got to his softer flesh.

Mischief didn't stop until his eyes were glassy. Then he shoved the body away and let himself sag down, exhausted, onto the hard packed earth. Or rather the soupy earth, saturated and churned with both their blood.

A soft cry reached his ears and Mischief's eyes slowly opened. The spell must have been tied to Matthew and now that it was broken Mischief could hear the soft pleas of his last born child crying out for food, warmth, and _love._ Calling weakly for a mother who was growing cold by the second. Mischief recalled his thoughts to comfort his child for the last minutes of their lives and dragged himself, trembling, to the corner where his baby girl lay whimpering. Her voice was already growing weak. Mischief didn't have much time left to give her one good memory.

“Shhhh,” Mischief soothed gently, wrapping her gently in his arms and pulling her close, “Oh, look at you. You're too big for a heat baby. You're not premature, you were already in my belly! I guess that was just regular lust for your daddy's hot bod that winter. Oh, I wish you could meet him. Tall, dark, handsome, and gruff as a billy goat. Well, can't have you dying without a name.”

As Mischief spoke to her he pressed her to his chest, prompting her to latch and begin to nurse. She suckled hard and then relaxed as his milk flowed, giving her the comfort she needed. Mischief used a claw to carve a name into the wall. _Zemsta._ The word for revenge in Polish. He hoped. Having grown up around people speaking English it had been a long time since he'd spoken his native tongue.

“There we go, little Zemsta. Uhhh I wonder what Zem means? I hope it's not a curse word. Well, I guess we won't have enough time to give you a nickname. Hm? That's it. Drink up. Ugh, I'm so cold. I won't be able to keep you warm for long.”

Mischief tugged at his open wounds. He hadn't known he could feel cold _inside._ He pulled out the afterbirth finally, more because it _itched_ than any sense of being able to survive the mess he was in, and pressed the edges together out of instinct as a person who had tended more births than he could recall... usually over animals, but whatever. At least he would be warmer if they were _closed_ a bit. He ate the afterbirth, chewing the rubbery substance, to ease the discomfort in his body and because his instincts were telling him it would boost his milk for his baby.

Mischief closed his eyes, curling up around his now sleeping baby, and let himself rest. It was over. The whole struggle with Matthew. The homestead. Loving Derek. Being his parent's little fox. He could just... sleep it all away now... and forever.


	34. Chapter 34

Derek heard the cries from within the bunker and beat against it in outrage, desperate to get in to his mate. The damn thing was a huge pile of metal plates riveted together, the mess of some sort of boat he'd pirated and carried into the middle of the _country_ just so he could imprison Mischief!

“We have to find the entrance,” Scott suggested.

“How do we do that, exactly?!” Derek gestured at where Jennifer lay dead, her eyes still open in a terrified scream. Derek had no idea what had done her in. He'd been so _careful_ to torture her without severing an artery, but human's were fragile and Scott had continually gotten in his way. Distracting him from finding Mischief.

“There must be a way in. What would Mischief do?” Scott pleaded.

“I'm starting to think you don't want us to get to him in time,” Derek growled, standing up slowly, “What did he do, threaten to tell Kira you were hot for Isaac?”

“He's my best friend, my brother, he didn't _threaten_ anything, and of course I want to get to him!”

“You lost him. You didn't help try to find him. Now that you are helping you're _stalling me.”_

“I'm not Kate Argent!” Scott shouted, stopping him dead in his tracks as he stalked towards him with murderous intent, “I'm not your enemy! I'm your _packmate_ , Derek! I love Mischief, and _I love you!”_

A soft sound. A cry. The cry of a child. It was the second time they'd heard it, but no sounds from Mischief. Derek felt hope surge in his heart, staring at the massive place in shock at the sound of his child. It had been nearly half a day. Their hopes were waning by the hour.

“The baby's alive?” Scott asked, “He had to have been planning to kill it!”

“Maybe he's not in there?” Derek wondered, “If he's not in there than we can find him. Get him to open it. Maybe... maybe before Mischief dies in there.”

“One of us has to find him,” Scott realized, “The other has to stay here and protect Mischief from him returning.”

Derek touched the cold steal wall and then pulled his fist back to punch it again in the same spot that he'd been slowly working a dent into. The damn stuff was thick as hell.

“Go,” Derek stated softly.

“I'll find him,” Scott promised.

The other alpha took off at a fast pace and Derek reeled back to punch the metal wall again. He would get to Mischief if it cost him every single muscle, tendon, and bone in his arm.


	35. Chapter 35

Mischief woke up with his throat dry as the desert and a sense of sudden urgency propelling him into consciousness. He had to do... something... something important... something...

A wail of despair and Mischief's heart stuttered to alert, dragging him back to agonizing pain, the stench of death and feces, cold, hunger, and unbearable thirst. His baby was crying. His baby was _alive._ And... so was he? That was unexpected. Mischief assessed his physical pain first, because being a parent this long meant he'd long ago learned that he had to take care of himself _first_ , no matter what his instincts screamed. He couldn't take care of a baby if he was _dead._

And dead he almost was. His body was trying to heal, but he was barely together. His abdomen had healed somewhat, but there were gaps and he was still bleeding sluggishly. Every ounce of fat in his body was gone, and a press at his chest showed his milk dried up as well. He needed food and fluids to heal further. He'd used up his own reserves, even the ones he needed to feed his baby.

Mischief cast around in the dark room, but the lantern had gone out and it was pitch black. He searched the room by hand, dragging himself slowly across the floor, found water and downed it frantically, but Matthew had always brought him the food a bit at a time. Made him eat it from his hands in a sick sort of courting ritual. He hoped there was a stash somewhere, but there weren't exactly _cabinets_ around him. Just a bit of soft bedding which he'd bled all over while cutting Zemsta out of his body. He might manage to dig out some worms from the ground now that it was wet from his and Matthew's blood but...

_Matthew._


	36. Chapter 36

Scott returned not with Matthew, but with a craftsman from the village who brought with him a hoard of tools on the back of a goat. He began prying out the rivets that secured the metal sheets until he worked out the piece Derek had bent into a weak point. The hatch fell away and Derek squeezed himself through the small area into the scent of rotting flesh, filth, and musty air.

“M-Mischief?” Derek asked, his eyes adjusting slowly to the dark chamber before him. The first thing he saw was the _actual_ entrance, which was apparently a trap door padlocked from within which led to a tunnel underground.

The room was small, a dirt bottom with wood around the tunnel entrance and a big massive metal mess bolted around it. There was a chamber pot that _stank_ , the destroyed body of what must have at one point been a man, blood soaked bedding, and...

Mischief. Mischief was curled up on the rust stained mat, wrapped around the tiny body of their child. He smelled of blood, rotting flesh, and bodily waste. He was so still. So small curled around an even smaller body. Derek stepped over the carnage to kneel beside his mate and child and gently lift them into his arms. Behind him the others were widening the hole, allowing Scott and the stranger to pull Derek out of the pit of despair without letting Mischief go.

“Is he?” Scott's voice cracked, “He's not?!”

“He's alive,” Derek breathed out slowly, “But barely. We need a doctor. Now.”

“My mom-”

“A _real_ doctor.”

“The Yukimura's are a month away! He'll never make it!”

“The town has a doctor,” The stranger interrupted, “Come on. We'd better hurry. They both look- and smell- half dead.”

(I was tempted to put a Nogitsune offshoot in here, but it just didn't feel right with the pace of the story to have Matthew rise and go on a rampage. Cool thought, tho.)


	37. Chapter 37

Derek was pacing the porch in front of the surgery in distress, unable to tolerate staying inside the small waiting area and knowing that there was nothing he could do. Scott had left with the baby, taking her to Kira who kept her milk flowing between babes so that she could help Mischief feed his own since male omegas often ran low. The doctor had given Mischief a glance and focused on the child, cleaning her and getting her warmed up. He'd given her breadsop to hold her belly over until Kira could feed her and then handed her to Derek as if his work were done.

When Derek had asked after Mischief he'd looked surprised.

“The omega is very badly hurt, the likelihood of him ever being able to bear young again is unheard of,” The man had stated sadly.

“Then he'll live?” Derek had asked in relief.

The man had blinked a few times and gestured at the baby, “Is that your greatest concern? Surely you have a beta or two who could-”

“I want my _mate_ to _live,”_ Derek had growled.

The man frowned, “I'll do my best.”

He'd then gone in to tend to Mischief at last, and it had been _hours_ of Derek wishing he'd had Scott fetch Melissa as well. At least she gave a damn about Mischief. What if that man in there was just... sitting about waiting for Mischief to die so he could say he tried? Derek wanted to tear the door off and check, but he also feared interrupting a critical moment that would result in Mischief's death.

Finally the doctor's assistant stepped out and motioned him inside. Derek was let into the back at last, but Mischief wasn't in that room anymore. The stink of blood and rotting flesh lingered, now mixed with the burn of ether and alcohol, and Derek gagged a bit.

“He's alive, but we need to discuss quite a bit before I take you upstairs to the room he's resting in,” The doctor told him, gesturing to the table where globs of flesh lay in ceramic bowls, “His womb. It died inside of him. Your omega is now your beta.”

“Fine,” Derek nodded, “Is that it?”

“No,” The doctor shook his head, “He did an admirable job keeping himself alive so that he could nurse that child. He did what he should: ate the afterbirth. However, he had lost a lot of blood, and in such a short time he needed more than that. He got it where he had to.”

Derek nodded, knowing what Mischief had done from the gruesome scene in the prison he'd been kept in.

“He had no choice,” Derek stated firmly, “How could any judge punish him for that?”

“I don't intend to tell any judge, nor will my assistant, nor should you. There's no reason to bring shame on him, or your baby.”

“The baby?” Derek frowned.

“Babes that young feed hourly,” He told him, voice low, “It wasn't just _Mischief_ who committed sin in that chamber. He did the chewing for the babe and....”

He let it hang and Derek nodded his understanding. He didn't _care about any of this._ As far as he was concerned Matthew wasn't a person, so it wasn't a crime at all.

“Then we're in agreement? No word of this leaves this room. Their survival was a miracle. Full stop.”

“Fine,” Derek agreed.

“Of course,” The assistant nodded, face sickly.

“Jessica here will go take care of the remains. Since I'm the only physician here the autopsy will fall to me. The Sheriff will only hear what I tell him. So if you still wish to see him, he's been cleaned up and is healing upstairs. He'll be at least a day, likely more, due to the loss of health in that moonless pit.”

“Thank you for saving him,” Derek forced out, honestly grateful.

“This way,” The assistant stated, guiding him out of the putrid room and up the steps to the rooms above.

Mischief lay under a stark white sheet, the foul stench that had been around him now gone. The contrast was sharp and Derek's knees nearly gave out at the sight of him ashen but alive. He was breathing slowly and his finger was twitching where it rested beside him. Derek dropped to his knees and took his hand in his own, pressing a kiss to the back before holding it against his forehead.

The assistant touched his shoulder briefly in support and then stepped away to go fetch Matthew's remains and fudge an autopsy to cover up cannibalism. Derek let himself go then, let the tears fall and the relief wash over him. His mate was _alive._ Their child had even survived. The threat was gone and they would soon return home where there would be peace again.

Mischief woke up a solid six hours later, breath and heart suddenly skyrocketing as he came to consciousness in a panic.

“Zemsta! Zem! Oh!” Mischief cried out, thrashing in the bed.

“Mischief!” Derek pinned his shoulders down, “Don't move! You're full of stitches!”

“My baby!”

“She's fine! Scott took her to Kira to feed her,” Derek assured him as he stopped thrashing, “She's fine, Mischief. Healthy and beautiful.”

“She's okay?”

“Yes,” Derek nodded, “You are too, in case you were wondering.”

“Oh,” Mischief sagged back, then looked around himself while Derek watched his brain work, “I'm not fine.”

“You will be,” Derek insisted.

“No, Derek, the doctor should have told you... there's no way I did a decent job _clawing_ my womb open. It won't ever work again. Won't stretch. I can't... I won't be able to bring a child to term again.” Mischief's voice cracked, his eyes tracking away as guilt filled them. He looked broken, as if he'd just realized that he had _nothing_ left to give Derek.

“I don't care about that,” Derek gripped his hand tightly, “Mischief, you _lived_. You survived that horrible... You're alive, and so is our child. It's just a womb. We have four beautiful children. It's enough, Mischief.”

“I'm not a real omega anymore,” Mischief choked, “You wanted an omega. You came here for an _omega.”_

“I came here for _you,”_ Derek insisted, pressing a kiss to Mischief's forehead, “It was always for you, Mischief. The homestead, the future cubs, the animals and crops, they were always just a way to make you happy. It's always been about _you_ , and I will love you whether you're an omega or a beta.”

“You promise?” He begged, voice barely a whisper.

“I swear.”


	38. Chapter 38

Isaac sat on the porch whittling a new toy for the youngest girl who wanted a new doll but whose parents were overwhelmed and distracted due to the chaos of Mischief vanishing. Or rather, he was trying. He'd never done something like this before and he was out of his depth. He felt as if he'd been out of his depth every single day since he'd been hauled out of his father's basement in Miane. Not that he wasn't grateful. It had been awful there, but at least it had been routine and nothing had been routine ever since. He felt wrong-footed all the time. The sexual tension between himself and Mr. McCall was overpowering, but the alpha was currently in absolute distress after having made a grievous error. He wept at night and worked himself to exhaustion by day while Kira cared for the cub born in captivity. He spoke softly of regrets, of he and Kira needing to take their children and leave, of fear that they couldn't go back to Maine or stay where they were. Melissa seemed eerily at ease, and her steadfast calm kept Isaac from panicking.

“Here you go,” Isaac told the girl, handing it over awkwardly, “I hope you like it. It's...”

“Oh, Zack, it's _pewfect!”_ She cried out, snatching up her new doll and hugging it, “Lissa, doll clowths!”

She ran off and Isaac sat there reeling. He was insanely drawn to Scott and that made things complicated whenever dealing with children that Isaac had a strange longing to have be _his children._ Kira had seemed almost afraid of Isaac for the first few days he'd been among them, but ever since Mischief had gone missing she'd started to almost cling to him. She held his hand or put hers on his lower back almost possessively while Scott was too busy searching and fretting to notice either of them. She passed her youngest to him for care while she fussed over Mischief's hungry newborn. She didn't move him from the pack bed and Melissa's motherly arms, but he felt it was because she was _Scott's_ mother. Isaac felt like he was on a shelf, just waiting until the current crisis was over for a sudden and intense change. A yule log that was going to be taken down and quite suddenly be a bright spotlight in their small and comfortable home.

_Our home. I'm home. This is my home now._

Isaac looked up as he heard hooves in the distance. A cart drawn by _horses_ pulled up and and then turned into the cleared and hard-packed roadway that lead into their portion of the world. Isaac stood up, eyes wide, and felt the adults all hurrying towards him through their pack bond. Scott's distress was palpable as Derek hopped down from the wagon's front by a man who had been driving it. He paid him a huge sum of coins and then headed around to climb in the back. Mischief was helped up and carefully carried out of the wagon. He was lowered to his feet, but his movements were stiff and his head was down as if in shame. Scott let out a broken sound and it took a moment for Isaac to catch the change in scent.

Mischief was a _beta._

He had risen in social status, but he had lost the one thing he'd been told his whole life set his value. Scott staggered forward and dropped to his knees at Mischief's feet, grasping at his skirts, clothes wrong for his new gender, clutching at his hands, burying his face in them to sob brokenly and beg for forgiveness. For a moment they were stopped there in the dusty autumn road to the home they had built together, the two who plotted to find a plot and make a new life for themselves and then schemed until they had those they wanted and needed by their sides.

Torn. Broken. Betrayed.

“He needs to rest, not stand here in the-” Derek snarled, voice harsh and angry as it had been for days.

“Scott, stand up,” Mischief pleaded.

“He's barely met his daughter, get out of the way!” Derek shouted at Scott.

“Please, please, Mischief, Mieczyslaw, please!” Scott pleaded, “I was such a fool, but I never meant for this! I never wanted you to be hurt! Your baby threatened! Your _last baby-!”_

“Get up, you idiot,” Mischief soothed, pulling him back out of the folds of his skirts by his hair, “Stop it. I'm too glad to be home to be mad.”

“We'll leave. Yield the land to-”

“Shut the hell up!” Mischief barked out, “Scott, get _up!_ ”

Scott got to his feet, staggered a bit, sobbed again, and then let Mischief lift his chin so their eyes met.

“I'm not letting my brother go,” Mischief told him softly, “We're family, Scott. Mistakes were made, but all I lost was a yearly heat cycle and you weren't the one who cut me up. I have enough cubs, you and Isaac will give Kira more, and I'll focus on my animals. We've shed enough tears. Come on. Talk to Derek. I need to see my daughter.”

Mischief pushed past Scott, shaking off Derek's clutching hands, and walked slowly towards the cabin. Isaac bolted forward to give him an arm to lean on while Scott and Derek stared each other down. Isaac brought him forward to where Kira was smiling proudly at him with a baby in her arms. Melissa gestured to the rocking chair on the porch and Isaac helped Mischief down into it and stepped away so Kira could hand him his baby.

  
“Ohhh, look at you! Zem, you big girl! I missed you so much!”

Zemstra cried softly but then nuzzled in happily to breathe in his scent. Mischief had tears in his eyes as he admired her and whispered soft promises of a lifetime of love and joy. Isaac was drawn in just watching them for a moment before he processed what Mischief had said.

“Wait, what about me and Kira?!” Isaac croaked out.

Kira giggled and took his hand gently with a small smile, “Oh, you don't have to.”

Isaac flushed bright red, but a cry distracted them from that distraction and they looked out to see Derek and Scott tussling. For a moment Isaac was terrified that Derek was going to rip his throat out, but Scott yielded in his arms, and Derek was holding him gently with teeth at his throat. Scott went limp and Derek let his neck go to clutch him in a tight hug. Scott was crying again, but this time in relief. Isaac watched as the two eventually headed back, Derek to look down on his daughter with eyes that finally had time for her. He knelt at Mischief's feet and smiled at them both in turn with love in his eyes and petted Mischief's cheek.

“You're both so beautiful,” Derek whispered, “What did I do to deserve this big, beautiful family after losing the first one?”

“Just lucky I guess,” Mischief smiled cheerily.

Scott had reached them at a slow pace by then, his eyes contemplative and lost in a deep thought. The effervescent smile he'd worn in the first days that Isaac had lived there had been replaced with a steady thoughtfulness. He was a man changed, having realized that some mistakes could have gigantic repercussions. He stepped onto their porch as if he were returning from war and seeing his home for the first time in years. He stared down at it for a moment before lifting his head and slowly taking in the pack gathered around Mischief, his children surrounding both their parents and fawning over their mother and the new baby as if they'd just arrived.

Scott slipped forward to press a long, slow kiss to Kira's lips before reaching out to Isaac and sliding a hand around his waist. Isaac found himself drawn forward into Kira's and then Scott's space. There was a moment of hesitation in which Scott stared into Isaac's eyes... waiting... for permission? Isaac's lips parted a fraction and he nodded just barely before Scott eased him forward and into a gentle, chaste kiss.

For now.

For now there was peace between both alphas... at least until the younger ones grew up and started jockeying for position. For now there was joy, in returns and new arrivals and returning health. For now the tornadoes missed them and the harvest was plentiful. For now they had no hostile neighbors and much love and joy to celebrate in the cold of the winters. For now they were safe and living their lives to the fullest in the south-west of a country that was new, growing, and holding it's breath for the next big change.

Okay, cow boys, girls, and people. There was supposed to be more of this, and I apologize for that, but honestly it was AWFUL. This was supposed to end with some serious PTSD, paranoia, Postpartum Depression... which would all go untreated until it got... let's just say no happy ending. I think those are important things to address, but I just couldn't do it this time. Apologies. Thing is, this was such a fluffy story for the most part! I liked that! So... I ditched the ending. Stay tuned for the eventual FUTURE story, which will be happy.

AN: "what was with Scott and Matthew?!"

I probably should have gone into that more. Scott knew him growing, too. Since he was separated from Stiles for a while after puberty, other alphas and betas were the ppl he talked to about Kira when moping over her. So talking to Matthew felt natural and Stiles' fear wasn't something he witnessed. This is your basic scenario where you believe a friend over the 'hormonal' person because of cultural norms and sexism.


End file.
